#and you have nothing for which you need to make amends!

[grelleswife]

Oh no…please don’t tell me that Mitsuki’s giving up her concert tickets as a peace offering?! 😰

[greatgoddyke]

vote for sol in the @doomed-bythe-narrative showdown

[parkersbliss]

you lock the 141 outside your house (I know my rights tiktok)

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x american!female reader 

synopsis: you lock them out of your (their?) house, claiming you "know your rights." based on a tiktok trend with soldiers.

warnings: none just fluff and humor :)))

a/n: I wrote this in like an hour and I think it's the funniest thing EVER thanks

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for tf141!

SEE TIKTOK HERE

—

Ghost: 

You watch as your boyfriend gets out of his truck in the driveway. He grabs his bag from the passenger seat and makes his way to the front door, a smile twitching under his mask at the sight of you waiting for him. 

Just as he steps to the porch, you close the door and lock it. “I know my third amendment rights!”

Ghost stops at the door, dropping his bag. Rights? What were you talking about? “Your what?” 

“No Soldier shall, in time of peace, be quartered in any house without the consent of the owner,” You reply, reading off your phone. 

Ghost sighs. Third amendment? Of course, the one American he dates is the one that has them all memorized. You could probably recite them in your sleep. Patriotism, or whatever. Which makes zero sense. You were living with him in Manchester. If all went well and you got married, he was making sure he changed your status to British. 

“You fucking Americans.” He grabs the key from his bag, going to unlock the door only to find you locking it. “Are you serious?”

You show your phone at him through the glass, the third amendment displayed on a Google search. He stares back at you from his mask, unamused. “Bloody hell, woman,” he mutters. 

You giggle from behind the door and give him a few more minutes before going to unlock it. You knew Simon’s limits. You only needed a few seconds of fun anyway, but by the time you unlock it, he’s gone. 

“Simon?” You call out, poking your head out the door and checking around the house. His truck was still there, so he didn’t turn back around. You don’t see any movements or even hear anything. Was he picked up by aliens? 

A thud sounds from behind you, and you yelp, shutting the door and turning around. 

Simon stands in front of you, arms crossed and his duffel bag on the floor.

“What the hell?” You said, looking him up and down. 

“I should be asking you that,” He retorts. “You should really lock your windows, love.” 

“Are you… did you climb through one?” 

“You locked me out.” 

“I went to unlock it!” 

“Third amendment rights, my arse.” He grabs your waist, pulling you towards him. “We’re in England.” 

You shrug, tracing up his arm. “Thought it was funny.” 

Simon just sighs. “Americans.” 

Gaz: 

“Oh, hell no!” You exclaim as Gaz approaches the door. “I know my third amendment rights.” The lock clicks. 

“No fucking way,” Gaz said, strolling up to the glass storm door. 

“No soldiers in this home.” 

He stares at you, his hands on his hips and that signature scowl on his face. There was no way he was coming home to this bullshit right now. “Open the door.” 

“No quartering soldiers without my permission,” You replied. 

Gaz rolls his eyes. Your home? He was pretty sure his name was on the mortgage, even if you were living in it 90% of the time. “I own the fucking property! I live here. You’re the guest.” 

You shrug, grinning. “Not anymore.” 

He runs a hand down his face. Sometimes just sometimes he regrets finding your stubbornness so damn attractive.  “I’m going to crash out, actually.” 

“Crash outside? Yeah.”

“Let me in!” He shouts, grabbing the door handle and jiggling it. 

“No!” You shout back, holding onto it and preventing him from entering without your permission. 

Gaz leans against the glass. “Remind me why I chose to date an American?” 

You smile at him. “Because we’re funny, and we have better Chinese food.” 

He glares at you, trying to unlock the door again. He groans when there’s no avail. “Babe!” 

You say nothing, finding his annoyance quite amusing and a change of pace for once. 

And then he actually crashes out, grabbing the handle and pulling, twisting, pounding at it. He yells a string of curse words and then starts banging on the doorframe. He gives up, frowning, and leans his forehead on the glass. “Please?” 

You unlock it. “Thought you’d never ask.” 

He storms inside, throwing you over his shoulder. “You are so in for it.” 

“I like where this is going,” You giggle as he throws you on the couch. 

He raises a brow, hands coming to your waist. “Yeah?” He starts tickling you. You yelp, laughing under him and trying to push away. 

Gaz doesn’t relent and continues tickling you even after you’ve pleaded with him to stop. “You lock me out of my fucking claim it’s your right,” He mutters. “Consider this my very reasonable punishment.” 

Soap: 

“I know my rights!” You shout, watching Soap approach the door. 

He stops in his tracks, tilting his head. He had no idea what you said. The poor guy could barely hear from all the bombs going on around him, and you shout through a door? Good plan.  “What are you on about?” He asked. 

“There will be no soldiers in my home!” You close the glass door and lock it. 

He approaches the front door, staring at you through the glass. His expression is clueless, brows furrowed. “You mean our home?” He knocks on the glass. “Can I come in?” 

“Nope!” 

He frowns. “Why?” 

“Third amendment.” 

“Amendment?” He scoffs. What the hell are you talking about? Is this what he gets for dating an American? You start proclaiming your rights? What’s next, the pledge of allegiance? “Are you taking the piss? Does this look like the land of the free?” 

You giggle at him, his accent thickening with his frustration. “I’m still an American!” 

“Trust me, I know! Can I please come inside?” 

“No soldiers allowed.” You tape up a piece of paper displaying those words. 

Soap continues frowning at you and realizes he isn’t going to be let in anytime soon. It’s a good thing he knew how to easily change that. Americans and their rights. More like Americans and their feelings. He sits down on the porch steps, facing away from you, rests his chin in his hand, and sighs loudly. 

You don’t budge. 

He sighs again, kicking his boots on the porch, turning back at you with sad eyes. Still nothing. He concludes there was one last option to get you to let him in. He grabs his phone, and you watch with furrowed brows as he types something in. Suddenly, music is blasting from his phone as he looks at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes ever. Not just any music, but the sad hamster violin music. 

“Oh my god.” You unlock the door, opening it up to him. “You’re such a baby.” 

He practically skips inside, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Your baby.”

Price: 

Your husband stands on the porch, rolling his eyes at you.

“I know my rights!” You shout at him through the window. 

“Do you, now?” He asked, playing along with your prank or whatever this was. If it brought you this much amusement to lock him out, he might as well indulge in it. That was the kind of man he was. Until he started freezing of course, then he would demand you let him in. 

You nod your head. “As an American, amendment 3 of the Bill of Rights says that I don’t have to house you if I don’t want to.” 

Price hums. At least they taught you something in American schools. “Does that extend when you’re in another country?” 

“It does to me.” 

He huffs, grabbing something from his pocket and displaying it to you. “You know I have a house key, yes?”

“I’ll just lock it again.” 

He tilts his head at you. You were really trying to sell whatever rights you thought you had. “Really?” 

“I’m taking this very seriously.” 

Price strokes his beard. “I can see that.” An idea pops into his head, and he steps away from the glass and in front of the door. You didn’t want to let him in? That’s fine. You wanted to lock the door? No problem. He’s got methods of entering from being in the military, after all. “Guess I’ll just have to kick down the door.” He raises his foot, fully intent on doing it. You were going to repaint the door anyway, might as well get a new one. 

You swing open the door. “Are you crazy?” 

He strolls past you. “Did I lock you outside our home? Besides, crazy would’ve been bombing the house.” 

Your lips parted, unsure if he was joking. You assume he is, but his expression says otherwise. “Are you being serious?” 

He laughs at your face, grabbing your hand. “Only if you start proclaiming your rights again.”

You put your hands up. “What rights? Suddenly, I’m feeling like this soldier can stay as long as he likes.” 

Price presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “Thought so.” 

[yandere-romanticaa]

she walks in beauty.

🎀 Today is Diluc's birthday. However, instead of focusing on himself, he can't help but to fall into his usual lovesick trap of gentle obsession.

yandere! diluc ragnvidr x fem! reader.

Ever since he was a young lad, Diluc could recall every single banquet and celebration which was hosted by the Dawn Winery estate. He could still sense the smell of various colorful liquors and taste the endless sea of pastries and cakes which were served at such events, making the inner child in him smile.

However, Diluc was no longer a young child.

Ever since the passing of his father, the need to throw any grand banquets was thoroughly diminished. While yes, there were certain things he could not avoid due to societal expectations, he still made the decision to keep things to an absolute minimum.

His birthday was not one of them. At least, not by his choice.

Everyone and their mother knew what day it was today and Diluc lost count with how many birthday wishes and gifts he had received. He was a little touched with the plethora of people who wanted him nothing other than joy, but those same people quickly became a nuisance because he could not seem to be with the one he actually wanted to be with today.

And there stood Diluc, hidden in the shadowy hallway as he watched his beloved prepare for the upcoming festivities. With both his arms crossed and his left side pressed firmly against the dark wood doorframe, Diluc decided in that moment that there was nowhere else he'd rather be than here.

His red eyes watched you thoroughly like a hawk, making sure to remember the ravishing scenery before him.

As much as you disliked his gifts, you didn't have a choice but to accept them this evening. The gentle sapphire necklace hung around your neck perfectly, the fine silver glimmering gently beneath the flickering candle flames. Diluc's gaze quickly shifted to your arms as they toyed with the various strands of hair at the top of your head, carefully adjusting the matching pin he had gotten you not too long ago.

He felt his heart skip a beat once he caught a glimpse of the wedding ring on your finger, causing him to nearly lose his composure and blow his cover altogether. His own ring seemed to come alive as he felt it around his finger, seemingly pulsing with a firey need to just take you, to see the light in your eyes, to beg you to please forgive him-

Even now, he could still hear you weep, for each tear felt like a stab straight into his bleeding heart.

Please, don't lock me away, you pleaded.

"I will be with no one but you. I will give you everything you desire but please Diluc-

Do not keep me as a prisoner!"

He sighed as he fidgeted with his gloved fingers. Diluc hated himself for doing this to you, for making you so utterly miserable. He was the one who took you away, it was him who had stolen that precious smile away from you. If you had been a normal couple perhaps this evening could have been more bearable. Perhaps he could have even enjoyed it, with you by his side.

But that was not how things were going to play out.

Diluc was stuck in a Hell of his own making. Every single tear that you had shed and will shed - that was all on him. Money can buy a lot of things but your love was not one of them. A new surge of determination was born deep inside of Diluc on that night of his birthday and he finally knew what his wish was.

He wished to make amends. Perhaps he could learn to live without your love, even if the mere thought made his teeth shake in fury and heart cry out in blind sorrow.

But he needed you to know that you were loved. He needed you to know that he was going to keep you safe. He was going to love you until his very last breath and even then, he would wait for the day of your sweet forgiveness.

🥀 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @mayulli, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149

Happy birthday to this wonderful man. He was my first ever husband in Genshin Impact, he deserves something extra sweet from yours truly.

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 You Says.

Post prison Reid x Reporter!reader

Read part one here!

Summary: After a rough night and some misunderstandings, Spencer needs to do everything he can to make things right with you and get his relationship back on track. The problem is, things aren't so easy for you, and he's willing to do anything you ask, even take care of you when no one else will.

Words: 3,1k.

TW: mentions of crime and trauma. angst+comfort. the reader gets sick (nothing serious, just a normal cold). english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Ok, I didn't think of doing a second part before, but reading my own work made me so sad😭 the cat deserves happy parents (we are the cat) but I warn you that I do not believe in magic apologies.

As an interesting side note, both parts of this story are named after children's games. In this case, it's for "Simon Says," which I thought was pretty cool because in this part, Spencer literally does whatever the reader wants.

I also want to thank you for the support you gave to the first part and for the 300 followers💝 I could not say it before but it makes me very happy.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

I. I Love You, I’m Sorry.

Spencer had been losing his mind since the last time he saw you in person, and it was all his fault. From the moment the door to his apartment closed behind you and the oven beeped, he began to feel the broken pieces of his heart that you had once held together unravel and shatter even more. He hated himself for letting his insecurities get in the way of the one good thing he had managed to have over the past few years, and for pushing you away when you didn't want to. You had been his exception among all the bad things that had happened in his life for as long as he could remember, the only one that didn't seem to want to be temporary and left him when he least expected it. And he himself had forced you out of his life, even when you didn't want to, begging him with tear-filled eyes for a little remorse that he didn't give you.

Just a few hours after the incident, he tried to go to work as if nothing had happened to clean up the mess the leak had made and put the killer in jail. He brought Penelope the promised cookies and your computer for her to examine because it felt right at the time. Part of him needed her to find real proof of your betrayal so he could stop feeling bad about making you cry and saying such ugly things to you.

Then he found out that you were telling the truth and that your computer contained nothing but photos of the two of you, all the articles he had ever written or been mentioned in your searches, and a few writings in which you poured out all your love for him in the cheesiest and most poetic way possible. You loved him, you really did, and there was no evidence to the contrary, because even Garcia could later assure him that the information had come anonymously and had been bought for five hundred dollars. But it was too late, because he had given you a conviction without even knowing it.

That's when he started to fixate on making amends for what he'd done. Every time you left work, bouquets of your favorite flowers with notes asking for forgiveness and wishing you a good night began to appear in your car. He also made a point of stopping by to talk to you and repeat how sorry he was. You knew this would happen when he realized his mistake. You had told him before you left, and that's why you refused to see him. It was good that the security guards at your workplace didn't let him in, even with his FBI credentials. The tricky part was your building because the doorman already knew him and let him in normally thanks to the excuses Spencer made up, even though you said a thousand times that he shouldn't have.

And that was happening again, for the fifth or sixth time in the last few days.

“Please, just let me talk to you and tell you how sorry I am. Listen to me for a moment.” You could hear Reid's voice from the other side of the door.

You didn't say anything. You just sat with your back against the door and one hand on your heart, as if you were trying to hold it. It didn't even cross your mind that he was in the same situation.

“Just a few minutes, please."

Once more, you remained silent.

Silence was the worst answer someone could give. You knew it, and it hurt to have to do it with him. But you had no choice because you knew that by looking into his eyes for just a few seconds, all the bad things would dissipate and maybe you would even forgive him without thinking just because of the love you had for him. You didn't like being this vulnerable and having so many feelings for someone who didn't trust you.

Lately, you've been spending every waking moment wondering what you could have done to make him believe that you were really capable of betraying him in such a cruel and selfish way. You were the one who woke up in the middle of the night to try to comfort him every time he had a nightmare or couldn't sleep. You drove to his apartment no matter what time it was to make sure he was okay. You lost your breath repeating that he was safe with you. You drank many cups of coffee the next day so you wouldn't fall asleep on the job every time the situation repeated itself. That's why you started sleeping in his apartment, wrapped in his arms because he said it made him happy to wake up and see you. And even with all that, Spencer was able to believe that you didn't love him.

You were running your hands through your hair and sighing, trying to block out all the thoughts running through your head, when you heard his phone ring. You could tell it was important by the way he spoke and changed his tone of voice, so you got up from the floor at the same time he did to put your ear to the door.

“I really have to go now, but could you open up a little bit so I can take a quick look at you?” He asked in a pleading tone after hanging up the call. “Please, I know you can hear me. I can see the shadow of your feet under the door.”

You really thought he didn't know you were there, feeling like a fool for listening to every word he said.

“If you want to see me, turn on the TV.” Your voice finally reached Spencer, and it gave him a glimmer of hope. It was the first time you had spoken to him since that night, and even though there was a door between the two of you, you were talking to him.

“It's not enough.”

“And it's not my problem.”

That was more hurtful than your silence.

“I know, it's mine.” He replied after a couple of seconds, trying to process everything. “And I will do everything I can to fix it...I have to go now, but take care of yourself. The nights have been getting colder lately, so wrap up warm.”

You knew it was a bit silly to think of that now, but his attention to detail was impressive. Since you did the evening news, you used to get off work very late, and the change from air conditioning to the city cold was quite a lot. Spencer had cited scientific studies to you many times to make you aware and know what kind of clothing materials to use to avoid a cold. You missed that a lot.

If he had the same attitude as the night of the conflict, it would be easier. You could hate him and stop loving him so strongly.

“I love you, William misses you and so do I.”

You frowned because you didn't know anyone by that name.

“William?”

“Our cat.” He answered simply. “When we talked about how we would name him, you said that a lot of people name their pets after their favorite characters. You love the movie ‘Notting Hill’ and whenever we watch it, you always say you like Hugh Grant's character named William. It also means strong-willed warrior. I just thought you would like it.”

You didn't say anything at the time because you had to cover your hand with your mouth to keep from doing so, but you liked it and you liked it too much. Once again, he focused on the details.

“You can change it if you want because I don't know if he likes it, but what I do know is that he misses you. He lies on your blanket and starts meowing, and he also looks at the door. I certainly think that every time I come home he expects it to be you.” He kept talking as he received no response from you. “It sounds like I'm talking about myself. And it's true because it happens to me the same way.”

When he paused, a tear escaped and fell down your cheek. It wasn't fair for him to say those things now.

“If you want to see him and me not being there, you can send me a message...but I'd really like to be.” He paused again, as if searching for the perfect words.

What did it cost him to have searched for the perfect words the night he distrusted you?

“I must go, I love you.”

The last thing you heard before he left was Spencer's footsteps heading towards the elevator.

II. I Miss You, I’m Sorry.

Just two weeks later, you realized that maybe you should have listened to Spencer when he said the nights were getting too cold. If you had, now you probably wouldn't be lying on your bed with an unbearable flu and no one there to bring you soup or a cold washcloth for your forehead because your mother was taking too long to get to city.

When you were younger, you thought it was a great idea to get as far away from your hometown as possible. Now, however, you realize that you need a familiar face to take care of you because you can't do it alone all the time.

You felt a sense of relief when you heard the door to your apartment open.

“Mom? I'm really hungry and the soup is all gone.” You spoke in a tired tone as you heard footsteps approaching. But at that moment, you watched as the cat you shared with Reid jumped onto the bed and started purring at you.

You thought you were hallucinating from the fever until you saw Spencer walking into your room with a couple of bags.

“I know you were expecting your mother, but we brought you soup and medicine.” He said, sitting up in bed to look closely at you and put a hand on your forehead. “You're burning up.”

“What are you doing here?” You asked, trying to pull away from his touch.

“Your mother called me because she couldn't find a flight today and was very worried. She asked me to take care of you.”

Of course she did, because she adored him and didn't know that things were bad between you two.

“I don't need you to take care of me.” You barely settled into bed and petted the cat. “Go to work, make sure no one leaks information.”

Oh, that was a low blow for him.

“I asked for a few days off because you have a high fever and someone needs to take care of you.”

“You don't have to...”

“I want to.” He said, interrupting you and putting a cold cloth on your forehead.

“Just because you're looking out for me doesn't mean I'm going to forget everything and forgive you.” You clarified right away, trying not to lose focus because of the relief you felt thanks to the cold compress.

“I know, and I don't expect you to. Just let me take care of you now, forget you hate me until you get better. I won't take advantage of this, I swear.” He looked at you with a serious gaze, as if he were swearing an oath. “Please.”

God, not puppy dog eyes now.

You used to love it when he looked at you with those sparkling eyes. Now, though, you felt manipulated by it.

“Fine, give me the soup.” You finally agreed, knowing you didn't have much of a choice. “Just a warning, please don't answer any calls near me. I can listen in and use the information to hire a nurse.”

He ignored the comment and didn't bring it up to make you uncomfortable. He sat on the edge of the bed, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His touch was light, and his eyes searched yours as he spoke.

“Is there anything else besides soup I can bring you? More tissues, or maybe some medicine?” He asked in a soft, soothing voice.

You shook your head, still a bit dazed by the situation and your stomach rumbling. You watched as Spencer disappeared into the kitchen, and you could hear his footsteps echoing throughout the house, followed by the clatter of pots and pans and the sound of the stove being turned on. You could only lie back on your bed, feeling a wave of tiredness wash over you.

A few minutes later, he came back with a bowl of chicken noodle soup and sat down next to you on the bed, being careful not to spill anything.

“Are you planning to feed me soup?” You asked, with a hint of irony in your voice, as you watched me hold the spoon and watch you.

“If you wish, I'll be happy to.” He replied simply and brought the spoon gently to your mouth.

“I'm not a baby.”

Especially not his baby.

“You hate me, I know. But I really want to take care of you, and I won't leave until at least your mother arrives.” He paused for a second, as if to catch his breath. “If you don't want me around, that's okay, I'll just sit in the corner of the room or in the living room in silence. It hurts, but I'll take whatever you want.”

You remained silent for several seconds, dedicating yourself to stroking the cat to avoid Spencer's gaze.

“I don't hate you.” Was the only thing you could say at the time.

Something inside you was expecting a more exaggerated reaction for letting your guard down a bit, or maybe you were just too feverish. The thing was, he had only given you a small, almost non-existent smile.

“I know.” He finally spoke and gently adjusted the cold compress on your forehead. “And that's why I hate myself.”

At that moment, while you were trying to make sense of how things had changed so much in just a week, he was watching you.

Spencer was waiting for you to explode, to tell him how sorry you were for getting involved with him and his complicated world, that it was all one big mistake that you would regret forever. He was expecting disaster, pain, tears, and a lot of chaos.

But you didn't give him any of that.

Just a sweet nothing.

He could tell at that moment that even though you were in a feverish state and had many reasons to be cruel, you would not be. He realized that you would never yell at him or do anything to hurt him, that the most painful thing you could give him was your silence. And it was then that he confirmed that you loved him the way he thought he did not deserve to be loved: honestly and genuinely.

“Why?” You whispered after a few minutes of silence. “Why are you with me if you don't trust me?”

“I trust you.” He looked you straight in the eye as he spoke, trying to show that he was being completely sincere. “I just don't trust myself.”

You frowned and let out a groan from the discomfort in your forehead. You weren't sure if you were hallucinating because of the cold or if Spencer was really shivering.

“I don't think I'm good enough for you, or deserve you, or that you love me because you want to.” He finally admitted, his voice slightly shaky. He seemed to be in a worse state than you. “It's silly because you've never given me a reason to distrust you.”

“I know you thought I was going to leave. But I didn't want to leave until you asked me to.” You were close to crying, so you pretended to sneeze to hide your watery eyes. You didn't want to show how vulnerable you were. “It was easier to distrust me and blame me like I was just another bad person you catch.”

“Yes, but...” He replied, trying to answer your question.

“Don't talk. It's my turn.”

He nodded after a few seconds, watching you with concern. “Just be careful, you're still sick.”

You already knew how sick you were and how deplorable you probably looked, but you wanted to say it all and stop feeling a lump in your throat.

“You say you trust me, but you really don't, and I've been trying to understand you for almost a year, Spencer. It's been eleven months of trying not to invade your space, avoiding topics that make you tense or your eyes glaze over.” You had to stop to catch your breath and drink some water with his help. “And you think I don't understand you or really know you, but I do. I know how all your dishes are arranged, I know how you like to fold clothes and eat toast, I know that chess reminds you of someone because your eyes get watery every time we see a board, I know about the book signed by Maeve that you hide in your closet and about which you tense up every time I'm near, I know about your nightmares about prison that you don't like to talk about, and about your mother's favorite colors that change every day. I know so much about you, and yet you think I know nothing.”

Once more, there was a long, quiet pause.

“I'm so sorry.” He held your hands as he repeated the same thing, this time with a truly sincere tone. The whole room was still tense as his knees touched the floor, and the apology he gave you seemed like a plea. “I'm really sorry. I know you don't want apologies, you want trust, and I'm going to show you that.”

You didn't say anything as he sat down next to you on the bed.

“I trust you, that's why I always tell you about my cases. And I will tell you about all my past, if you want, because for me you are my present and my future...of course, only if you still want to.”

The eyes of both of you were fixed on the cat you shared, who was purring and lying very comfortably in the middle of the bed. It was nice to know that at least one of the three of you was happy.

“Tell me.”

And just as you asked, he told you everything because he wanted to show you that he trusted you.

This time he really trusted.

[hannieehaee]

them accidentally ditching you on your bday pt. 2 - hhu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, conflict resolution, direct continuation to this, fluff, happy ending, etc.

part 1

wc: 3889

a/n: literally so many ppl requested thisjhdf im glad u guys liked it!! im working on vu and pu versions for this rn btw <3

masterlist

seungcheol -

seungcheol sat there for a minute or so, simply pondering at what had just happened. it was 100% his fault, that was something he was very well aware of. he knew that it had simply slipped his mind, but that did not wipe away the hurt he saw in your eyes upon entering your shared apartment. knowing that you had been waiting for him all day made him feel like an asshole. he couldn't believe that he had forgotten about your birthday even upon coming home at midnight the night prior. he felt like such a hypocrite, always whining at people to give him royalty treatment on his birthday but absolutely ignoring you during yours. you, his most favorite person.

he felt hurt that you had decided to spend the night with some friends, instead of in the arms of your boyfriend, but he understood. this was what he deserved. god knew that he wouldve pulled out all the dramatics if you had done the same to him, which was why he was now at a standstill, not knowing what he should do. he wanted to see you so badly, get on his knees and apologize, letting you know over and over again that you were the most vital person in his life and that forgetting you was something that not even he could forgive himself for.

now, he could've sat there and lamented himself over his stupid mistake, or he could run after you before you made it out of the building. he did not want you going to bed angry, or much worse, sad, so he picked the latter and got off his ass to chase after you, not caring about his current exhaustion as he took the stairs rather than the elevator in order to be able to catch up to you before you made it to your car.

luckily for him, he was able to catch you just as you stepped out of the elevator (having ran down five flights of stairs and almost injuring himself in the process), completely unsuspecting to his sudden ambush. he hadn't noticed until now, but you had dressed up, clearly ready to go clubbing or partying with your friends. he felt bad to get in the way of your plans. no, he felt horrible to accidentally ditch you and then ruin your plans. but he needed to at least try and make amends. he knew that if this were him, he'd want you to try and make it up to him.

you jumped back a bit at seungcheol's sudden apparition as you rounded the corner upon exiting the elevator, seemingly not having expected him to come after you.

"cheol, what are you doing?", you didn't seem mad, but your tone let him know you were clearly not content with him.

okay, he didn't think as far as this. his main goal was just to convince you to stay, then he would come up with a way to make it up to you.

"baby, i ... i'm so sorry. i know how hypocritical this is coming from me. i never meant to forget, you know that! there's nothing i can do to make up for having forgotten about you today, but please, please let me try."

"cheol .. i don't know," you paused, "last year when i texted you at 12:03 you complained about it for over an hour. you're the one always making a big deal about this. i assumed you'd care when the shoe was on your foot, but apparently not."

"i do! i do care. baby, please. let me take you out. ditch your friends. i'll take you somewhere. anywhere. i'll even take you out tomorrow too! i'll take the day off. how does that sound?"

"you cant take the day off, cheol. you're an idol-"

"i dont care! they can come and try to drag me away from you if they want. i want to be with you. please let me. please don't leave. cant stand the thought of you going to sleep alone after what i did."

you chuckled at the first half of his statement, feeling touched at the second part of it.

"are you sure?"

he scoffed, deciding to go on a leap and hold onto your hands, pulling you closer to him, "yes! there's nothing i wanted to do more today than be with you! it mightve slipped my mind that today was the day, but i had a beautiful day for us planned, baby. will you let me show you? please?"

cheol knew it was hard for you to say no to him, specially when he whined and pouted at you, giving you his best performance in order for you to understand how badly he felt. it didn't take much more for you to break, finally letting a smile graced your face as you squeezed his hands in yours.

"you better make this worth my while, choi seungcheol," god, he hated when anyone called him that, but you were the exception.

"always."

wonwoo -

wonwoo was astonished at himself, for lack of a better word. he had never been more disappointed in himself than in this moment. sure, he didn't take birthdays too seriously, and he knew you didn't either, but you always made him feel so special on his day he had only wanted to do the same. he was a lowkey guy, so his ways of showing love sometimes went unnoticed by most people, except for you. you accepted the subtlety of his love, loving him all the more for it. he felt terrible that today he showed you the exact opposite of what he had planned. he had taken weeks to perfect the dinner he had wanted to make for you, having prepared a romantic night for the two of you. all he wanted was to make you feel loved as he held you through the night, but his plan had stupidly slipped his mind.

what kind of asshole ditches their significant other on their birthday? for a stupid video game out of all things? as soon as wonwoo communicated what you had texted him to mingyu, his roommate couldn't help but scold him, telling him this was very uncharacteristic of him. which it was. everyone knew wonwoo to be a very sensible guy. it was very rare for anyone to have their feelings hurt by wonwoo. the guy was just simply too emotionally intelligent to ever be perceived as a hurtful individual. except now he had shown a careless part of himself that rarely ever faced the surface.

he was unsure of what to do. it was clear by your messages that you did not want to see him. you quite literally had asked him to not come. your texts to him were always filled with love, somehow being able to have your affections to him transcend even through text. but these were cold, and with good reason. still, wonwoo did not want to give up. the only thing that would be worse than ditching you on your birthday would be to stay where he was, knowing you were not only upset but also hurt by his actions. or rather, lack there of.

so, wonwoo was now on his way to you. well, to your apartment. you had mentioned in your messages that you would be out with friends due to his absence. it killed him that you had chosen to be with your friends over him, but he was fully aware that he only had himself to blame for that. he was glad you at least had someone to be with while his forgetfulness kept him away from you.

he had a key to your apartment, often heading over to fall asleep in your arms after a grueling day of being an idol. upon arriving there, he knew you'd be gone, so he allowed himself in, hauling in all the ingredients he had packed with him in order to make you the dinner he had been planning all these weeks. he was unsure of when you'd arrive back home, so he needed to hurry just in case. there was also a chance you'd come back in the early hours of the morning, knowing you would sometimes stay out with your friends til 1 or 2 in the am. having practiced this dinner multiple times, wonwoo was able to have it all done by 10, hoping that you'd arrive soon so the dinner wouldn't go to waste. he took care of the ambience, lighting candles and even moving furniture aside to make space for his set up. all he had to do now was wait for your arrival.

it had taken you around two hours to arrive. wonwoo had simply sat there waiting for you, not wanting to contact you as to not disturb you. okay, maybe he had maniacally texted you back earlier, apologizing for his mistake over and over, but had received no response, so he had decided it'd be best to just wait for you to arrive on your own. and now you were here, crossing the door to your apartment.

you stopped upon spotting him, widening your eyes before taking note of the dinner table behind him, "wonwoo? what are you doing here?"

he smiled sadly at you, slightly unsure of what to say, "i cooked for you," he paused, continuing upon seeing your confusion, "im so sorry. time got the best of me. i cant believe it slipped my mind. i knew it was today, but i got too distracted. i never wanted to make you feel like i didnt care. i do. so much."

you stood there without saying anything, still carrying a slightly shocked expression on your face. so he continued.

"baby ... please, have a meal with me. i prepared all this for you. this is what i had planned for today, if only i hadnt forgotten. let me make it up to you, please. i already called off tomorrow. i had a whole day planned for us, but i'll do whatever you want. if you want me to leave, i will. just, please. i need you to know how much i care. i love you, you're everything."

you continued to stare at him for a bit, a soft smile slowly breaking into your features before responding.

"nonu .. you didn't have to do all this. i'm sorry if i made you worry. this is ... it's such a sweet gesture. of course i want you to stay. all i wanted all day was to be with you," it melted his heart that you had wanted him all day, but were separated by none other than himself.

he pulled you into his arms halfway through your response, humming as he felt you hug him back. nothing felt as nice as your touch against his.

"im so sorry, beautiful. this will never happen again, i promise."

"i love you, wonwoo. thank you."

"happy birthday."

mingyu -

mingyu had never hauled ass quicker than at that moment, not even bothering to say goodbye to his roommate before grabbing a jacket and sprinting out of the door.

he couldn't believe his behavior towards you. you had always been a top priority to him, and to now realize he had forgotten your birthday gutted him tremendously. but what got to him even more was the knowledge that you had probably been waiting all day for him, having agreed beforehand that he would make space for you on your special day even through his packed comeback schedule. the sole thought that you, the bestest person he had ever met, had sat alone waiting for him all day, made him feel like the worst boyfriend. so now he was quite literally running in order to get to you.

the dryness of your voice during that call should've been the first hint that something was wrong, but what really made the alarms go off in his head was your lack of response when he said 'i love you' to you. mingyu knew it was dumb to care so much about it, but he thrived off words of affirmation, so your lack of response made him immediately assume something was wrong. you had never not reciprocated his words of affection, much less hung up on him. the moment he expressed his concerns to wonwoo, he was reminded by his roommate that 'oh wait, isn't it their birthday this week?' suddenly his mind started spiraling, now remembering that he had forgotten his boyfriend duties on the most important day.

it didn't take him too long to get to your apartment. okay, he didn't actually run there, he was just being a tad bit dramatic. but dramatics were necessary in this situation, which is why the moment you begrudgingly opened the door after his incessant knocks, allowing him inside, he immediately dropped to his knees, looking up at you as he rambled apologies at you.

"baby, i'm so fucking sorry. god, i don't know how i forgot. i swear the day just slipped my mind. i had plans ready, i swear! i've just been so busy with the comeback- not that that's an excuse! you have every reason to be mad at me. it won't happen again, i promise, i-" mingyu wasn't sure when exactly he was going to stop listing off constant apologies to you. he wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying at this point, just repeating himself over and over again, letting it slip past him that you were now standing above him, holding in your amusement at the state of the pleading man before you.

"mingyu, please get up."

like an obedient boy, he got up, now towering over you as he usually did. he immediately held onto your hands, bringing them up to his chest as he continued his apologies.

"you have every right to be mad at me. i neglected you and forgot about you when i shouldn't have. i didn't even wanna come home to wonwoo tonight! i wanted to come to you! but we have a schedule early tomorrow morning, so it was just easier. but i'll cancel! i'll stay here with you! i wanna make it up to you-"

"mingyu, shut up!"

that was enough for him to slam his mouth shut immediately, looking at you as he waited for your next command words.

"mingyu, listen. i understand. i was hurt you forgot, but i understand you're really busy right now, okay? i'm not angry at you. you don't have to cancel your schedule either. i don't want to get in the way of-"

"i'll do it! you're my top priority, baby. you know that."

"i still don't want you to cancel, gyu. it's fine. i'm not angry. i appreciate your apology. just wanted to be with you today .. i'm sorry if i made you worry," you looked down, almost as if embarrassed by having felt hurt by his actions. this made mingyu melt with guilt.

"no, baby. fuck. how can i make this up to you? can i stay here tonight? hmm? i'll cook you dinner and wake you up with breakfast. i'll even cut my schedule short for tomorrow so i can be back home with you earlier. how's that sound?"

"sounds perfect mingyu, thank you," he took this as confirmation to finally hold you in his arms, swaying you back and forth as he hummed the birthday song lightly against your ear, causing you to giggle against him.

vernon -

everyone was aware that vernon could sometimes be a little too chill for his own good. he didn't make too big of a deal about most things, simply going with the flow and allowing things to evolve on their own. except that could not be done in this situation. right now, he needed to make a choice. give you your space, or run home to you, tail between his legs as he apologized for ever having forgotten about you. the last thing vernon would ever want was for you to not feel the immense amount of love he's always had for you. he knew he could be bad at showing it sometimes, but you were the absolute love of his life, which made him feel devastated over and over again as he kept rereading your texts.

'maybe you should stay at the dorms tonight. not really in the mood for you to spend the night. im sorry. love you.' that was what you had last sent to him exactly thirty-eight minutes ago. how could he just sit with that for the rest of the night? specially when all he wanted to do was be with you and hold you and kiss you and show you how incredibly obsessed with you he was. he was never good with dates, but he had always gotten any and all dates pertaining to you right thus far. he even had a gift for you he had purchased a few months back, but he had stupidly forgotten the day he had been preparing for was this week. this mistake was an outlier, truly, but it hurt you nonetheless, which was all vernon cared about at the moment. he couldn't believe you'd been having to hint at your birthday while your boyfriend remained clueless. you must've felt so dejected. he winced at the thought.

however, right now was not a time for lamentations. even if you kicked him out and told him to get fucked, vernon had to at least try to come home to you now. he quickly went over the situation with his members, explaining that he had been a total douchebag and neglected you. that earned him scoldings from all members present, calling him all types of names and demanding he head over to your apartment right this instant to beg for forgiveness and hope you wouldn't just send him right back.

so now he was on his way to you, despite you having instructed him to stay away. he wanted to respect your wishes, but he couldn't go to sleep tonight knowing your heart was still hurt because of him. he needed to at least see you and have you know that he was willing to try and mend things. vernon wasn't one for public displays, nor was he one for dramatics, but he was willing to pull all stops for you if it meant you'd forgive him. which was why he was currently running through the hybe hallways as he called up his driver to be ready to take him to your apartment as soon as he reached the parking lot.

he had had time to think over a game plan on the way over, except nothing came to mind. the two of you had never fought before. sure, there had been a few minuscule spats here and there, but he had never seen you angry at him before; he'd never given any reason to be until now. he didn't want to freak out over this, but knew how hurtful it must've been for you to feel so neglected by the person who's supposed to love you most, so he felt a pit in his stomach with the worry that maybe this would be enough for you to finally snap at his forgetful tendencies and end it. he didn't have much time to think about this, however, as he now stood in front of your apartment door, fearful of knocking on it.

the decision to open the door was made for him, as you incidentally opened it yourself, yelping at his apparition on the other side of it.

"vernon? what are you doing here?", you didn't seem angry. you seemed more confused at his presence. that was good.

"i- uh ... i'm sorry."

okay, kind of a bad start.

"vernon. i told you not to come over tonight. i'm sorry, i'm not really in the mood to see you right now," even though you didn't appear angry, your eyes wouldn't meet his, making him deflate a bit.

"are you mad at me? i'm so sorry. i didnt mean to forget, i swear," vernon knew there wasn't much he could say past that, but he wanted you to at least know he regretted his neglect.

"i'm not angry, vernon. i'm just a little ... sad. i tried to be subtle about it. i mean, i dont even care for my birthday that much, but i hoped my boyfriend would at least remember it."

"baby, god. i am so fucking sorry. i never meant to make you feel like i didn't care. it just slipped my mind. i know it's not a valid excuse, but i need you to know that it doesnt mean anything. i'm just a fucking idiot. i'm sorry."

he was rambling now. somehow you being hurt by him trumped the chance of you being mad.

"vernon, it's fine. i dont want you beating yourself up about it. i'll get over it. i just need space tonight. i was about to go meet with a friend before you got here," you seemed like you just wanted to get out of the situation, clearly feeling awkward at even expressing your disappointment at him. it made vernon feel like even more of an asshole.

"no! be mad! you shouldn't get over it. i should be making it up to you. stay. please. i'll do anything you want. i'll take tomorrow off. we can do something together. anything you want. i have a gift for you and everything! i got it while in japan, the date just slipped my mind, i swear. please stay. i don't want to leave you alone if i made you sad. please."

"vernon ..."

"please. i don't want to force you. if you want to leave, i'll accept it, but let me make it up to you. i dont want you to feel like i dont care. i do. i know i dont express it much, that's on me. i'll make it known. i'll show you. i don't want to hurt you again, i-"

he was unable to finish his sentence, now stumbling back due to a sudden weight against him. you, with your arms now wrapped around him as your face nuzzled his neck. he instinctively wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you in as he lowered his head to breathe you in, humming as he felt the relief of having you in his hold.

you pulled away too quickly for his liking, eyes slightly glossy but not enough to consider it worrisome, "i forgive you. i'm sorry, i didn't mean to exaggerate. i did feel neglected, but-"

"but nothing. don't apologize, please. this won't happen again, okay? i love you."

"i love you too," you smiled at him before pausing, "i .. do you wanna come in?", you seemed a bit sheepish, probably feeling awkward at hearing vernon ramble apologies at you for the past five minutes, showing way more emotion than he usually did.

"come in? oh, you're not leaving? wait, don't answer that. yes," he held onto your hand before you could say anything, pulling you in for a quick kiss before leading you into your apartment, all under the promise to make up for his previous carelessness and never make you doubt his affections for you ever again.

[earthtooz]

x : DON'T GO :*+ﾟ

in which: blade has always felt cold, but even more so without you.

warnings: 1.9k words, HURT/COMFORT with a sprinkle of angst, gn!reader who calls blade 'ren' once, mention of blood, ooc!vulnerable!blade, he's like a kicked puppy in this one

a/n: perhaps the most intimate piece i've wrote to date, this is nothing but pure yearning and longing on blade's behalf, and a nice fix-it fic with the most vulnerable i think blade could ever be. enjoy!!

in his new life, blade has always felt cold.

he is not spared from the constant feeling of goosebumps prickling his skin, not even for a second as the cold bites the tip of his fingers and sink their teeth into him to send shivers up his spine. but he has never felt colder than he does right now. 

your side of the bed is untouched, perfectly made, and devoid of any indication that you had been there. the blankets and mattress are cool to touch, with hardly any wrinkles in the sheets, and an ache declares itself home in blade’s chest.

the sun spills on his bare skin when he kicks the covers off, illuminating his scar-ridden chest as he gazes around the room, as if waiting for an sign that you were still here, and that he wasn’t too late. however, an immediate soreness tickles his throat that causes him to wince, serving as a reminder of the unpleasant discourse you had last night. 

it was hardly over anything of importance, but blade, a man of pride and relentlessness, had refused to back down, and you went to bed angry that night. he did too but woke regretful and cold under the covers, your warmth taken with you.

today was the day you had to leave for a mission, and although he knows you have a strict schedule to follow, he just wonders why you couldn’t have woken him up to say goodbye, especially after everything. 

he didn’t even get to say sorry or try to at least make amends. the swordsman only hopes you didn’t leave furious with him, and that you at least had something to eat before leaving.

to distract himself from the heartache, blade forgoes lying around and decides to start his day before the absence you left overwhelms him and the only thing his mind can do is think about you. 

not that he’s successful, because despite dedicating a monotonous afternoon of drilling sword techniques, the rampant thoughts about you did not decrease. rather, with each swing and sway of the cracked blade, his mind finds more and more to think about, with you at the epicentre of all of them.

it’s sometime around sunset when blade receives update on your status.

the swordsman is sat on a stone ledge, gold rays from the sun spilling on his skin as he waits for the sweat and fatigue to roll off. blade thinks of how you’d normally be seated nearby, watching him train to supply water and energy bars. although he never used to like the company or the doting, it doesn’t feel the same without you beside him, he misses you and wonders when you’ll return. 

“how long have you been here?” a raspy, female voice asks, breaking blade’s train of thoughts.

“since noon,” he responds merely. he doesn’t need to look up to see that it’s kafka talking to him.

“right. makes sense. i thought you’d be lonely since y/n’s gone.”

“need you remind me?” he huffs, voice teetering a threatening gruffness that would make ordinary people shudder, but does nothing to kafka.

“oh, spicy today, aren’t we?” she coos, ignoring the immense pressure radiating off blade effortlessly before taking a seat beside him. “what’s up? is there trouble in paradise?” a scoff comes from the swordsman. “i was only joking, did something really happen between you two?”

“none of your business.” 

kafka shrugs before her phone begins vibrating violently. when she reads the notifications, her face pulls the closest expression to concern that blade has ever seen her wear. 

“y/n got ambushed.”

his world freezes over.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the sunlight is gentle in blade’s eyes when he wakes up.

clothes are strewn on the floor, bedsheets are half off the bed, ceramics lie in pieces along the cracks of the planks, and despite the mess blade has made of your shared space, he is the most crumpled of them all. a kaleidoscope of volcanic anger, tsunamic worry, and mountainous yearning, the only place that has remained untouched by blade’s destructive touch is your side of the bed, lest your scent disappears. 

it’s been five days since anyone has received a live update from you, only hanging on to tracking notifications of your spaceship as any indication that you were fine. for the duration of it, nothing has been able to calm him, with kafka and silver wolf needing to stun him before he could do anything brash, like running off into the infinite cosmos to find you.

elio’s promises had never felt emptier, his constant claims of how you’d return very soon turning into dust in blade’s ears because how could he hold on to hope when you are alone amongst the stars? 

his texts are left delivered, but never read. in fact, it has been five days since your contact displayed to be online, and he finds himself staring at it in case that the circle will illuminate green, that you’ll give him some sort of update on your liveliness. 

so that you’ll see how sorry he is and all he wants for you is to return home. 

he doesn’t remember when he became so dependent, but perhaps this is another cruel punishment from fate with another inconceivable price of repentance.

for someone as unforgivable and despicable as blade to love means to mutilate the universe with aftershocks that tear through boundaries of what’s possible. for a man like blade to rebel, it means that the consequences will return tenfold.

and there is no crueller damnation than tearing you away from him. 

he turns on his side, arms reaching over to where you would normally lie, and dozes off again, feeling colder than ever.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

blade wakes up a second time. the sun is no longer the thing that awakens him, but rather, the sound of footsteps that echo outside the bedroom. disgruntled and still trying to gather his bearings, he shoots awake at the sound of your door opening.

you stand on the other side.

is this a dream?

“oh,” you breathe. you sound winded, caught off guard by the sight of your lover who stares at you like a bewildered deer. “i’m sorry, i didn’t think you would be here.”

he doesn’t say anything, just merely looks at you, unnervingly unresponsive.

you look miserable. fatigue clings to your skin like a second skin, your eyes lack the brightness they usually have, and you are, evidently, very battered and bruised, blood staining your ruined clothes. 

but you are like sunlight, and blade thinks he can breathe again. 

“i guess i’ll leave,” you murmur, interrupting blade’s momentary assessment.

“don’t.”

turning back around, the swordsman is now slowly stalking towards you, seemingly teleported from the bed to halfway across the room in the blink of an eye. 

“is something wrong?” you ask and he holds back a scoff from the irony of your question. he’s the one that should be asking that, not you. 

but yes, there is something wrong; you left him alone. you went somewhere he couldn’t and then made him feel helpless because he didn’t know whether or not you were going to come back, stranded in the cosmos forever. 

stopping before you, his hands gravitate upwards with the magnetic need to touch you, to ensure that you were real and not some figment of his hazy imagination. blade raises a hesitant hand to sit on the back of your neck and the frostiness of his fingertips causes a shiver to run up your spine. gently, he presses you for a pulse and visibly gulps when he finds it, suffocating you in the tense silence that has occupied the air (you’re real, and you’re okay, delivered back to him in one piece).

then, he looks at you with the saddest expression you have ever seen him wear before engulfing you in his embrace. the stellaron hunter is hesitant with his touch, hovering around you in fear of overstepping, for blade would never forgive himself if he were to scare you off again. 

because you’re finally back where he can reach, and he never wants you to leave. 

“ren?” you pause, gently wrapping your arms around his waist and closing the gap he left, meeting him halfway. the little action floods him with endless relief. “what’s the matter?”

he shakes his head against you and his hold tightens mercilessly, squeezing all air out of your lungs. 

“you had me worried,” he confesses, no louder than a whisper because otherwise he would crack under the weight of his own words. the constant fear that has plagued him for the last few days would finally break him and he’d be in shambles in your arms, making a mess of something gorgeous with something hideous. 

so instead, he will continue simply holding onto you where you are safe. in his arms, you cannot leave, you cannot go places that danger you, and you cannot break his heart and choke him with the emptiness of your presence.

“i’m sorry,” you say, rubbing his back and he tugs you closer. “i didn’t mean to worry you, everything jus-”

“-you left without saying goodbye.”

you’re silent and guilty, but so beautiful. “i thought you didn’t want to see me. we were pretty mean to each other before i left,” you say after a second of contemplation. “i didn’t know where we stood, i wasn’t sure if you still wanted me.”

whatever is left of his heart breaks, crumbling into shambles that ring at your feet. there are a multitude of things that blade wants to say, yet no words come to fruition, to his dismay. he wants to offer you the comfort and promises you want to hear, and he wants to express the overwhelming relief he feels, but he can’t, and he curses his own inability to be heartfelt. 

instead, his grip around you tightens, like you’ll slip away otherwise and have him search for you throughout the cosmos. 

“don’t do any of that again,” he pleads instead, hoping that you’ll understand. “i beg of you.”

“okay,” you breathe. “i won’t.”

“don’t leave like that,” he tugs at your ruined shirt, grasp gentle and careful in fear of scaring you away with the intensity of his emotions that are hanging on by a thread

“i wont.” 

“please don’t go.”

“i’m here, aren’t i?”

blade sighs, nodding. you smile at him and it feels like a warmth powerful enough to drive the cold away. 

“but first, i need a bath,” you murmur, placing your hands on his chest to push him away. “please, keep your distance, i’m pretty sure i reek.”

he doesn’t say anything and clearly doesn’t listen, because instead of letting go, he simply leads you to the bathroom without ever unwrapping his arms. soon, the bath begins to run, and the sound of water streaming down ceramic echoes off the tiles, but the warmth of your laughter and tired words overpower it. blade sits at the edge, nothing but an oversized shadow that watches as you relax in the water, frowning when he catches the frequent bruise or fresh scar. 

afterwards, you both stumble onto the bed (careful to avoid the mess that blade as made, which you scolded him for, and he listened dejectedly before promising to clean it all up), and blade reaches over to your side, chest warming when he finds your figure to tug close. 

you fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. your lover, on the other hand, stays awake for a few moments longer, simply trying to commit you to memory. 

“don’t go,” he repeats, tugging at your shirt as the evenness of your heartbeat lulls him to sleep.

he doesn’t feel cold anymore. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[ms-demeanor]

i mean realistically many people do deserve to be the victims of targeted harassment campaigns. if you're being an asshole you deserve to be screamed at by everyone present until you stop. some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.

the people of wendy's have a moral right to scream at the manager if said manager sprays them in the neck with milkshake every time they go to pick up their order

damn following up the last ask, ig it was someone in ur notes constructing an equivalence between @tting staff and getting nuked to yelling at a wendy's manager and getting kicked out. my bad lol thought that was part of ur main post

I mean this is something that's still worthwhile to bounce off of even though you're not actually responding to me.

First of all, no, I pretty much don't think that anybody deserves to be the focus of a targeted harassment campaign. At least not the kind that are spun up on tumblr or twitter. I generally think that targeted harassment campaigns don't work to change minds, they only work to torment, isolate, and attack people, which will often further entrench them in their positions.

Sometimes people doing serious antifascist work will make a discovery like, for instance "the principal of X school is a vicious antisemite" and will run an *exposure* campaign to get them removed from a position of power, but with very few exceptions when you see an online callout post for a random internet user it's nothing but abuse and an attempt to bully them off of a specific website, not an attempt to protect victims or inform people of a genuine threat. "ABC is the new alt of this person with a documented history of starting cults, DNI, block and move on" is very different than "This specific user who is on staff posts harry potter fanart and is why fascists continue to exist on tumblr, let's make sure they know what tumblr thinks of them."

You are trying to frame bullying campaigns as normal consequences for antisocial behavior, but the antisocial behaviors under discussion here are "user posted fanart broadly disliked by the community and associated with specific ideologies long after the initial fandoms were crystallized" and "is the CEO of a social media website that is implementing features that the users dislike."

"People deserve to be screamed at until they stop the bad behavior" is punitive and shitty and so broad and open to so many interpretations that you're basically saying "it's open season on screaming at people." I think that it's bad behavior to support neoliberal political candidates who prop up capitalism but it would be horrible for me to run harassment campaigns against everyone who says "vote blue no matter who" even though I think that attitude perpetuates real world harms. (And it also wouldn't convince those people to change their minds! The fact that I think they are doing something harmful doesn't give me the social license to send hundreds of people to harass them! And it wouldn't work! These kinds of campaigns don't effect change they just isolate people and erode trust and civility jesus fuck we need to be coalition building not posting callouts over whatever activity has been deemed "freak behavior" this week)

some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.

oh buddy, I think I get where you're coming from here but considering the kinds of behavior under discussion this is just straight up fascist. You are literally saying that people should be banished from society for wrongthink because nobody under discussion here has actually committed an act of cruelty.

(one of the things that i'm putting under the heading of "tumblr conspiracist thinking" is "staff is currently and continually intentionally flagging certain LGBTQ tags and bloggers" - there is ample evidence that the current staff is working to unfuck flagging and blocked tags that was done long before this crew was working on it. People talk about "tumblr had to settle because their filtering disproportionately impacted lgbtq+ creators" and that is TRUE however that was a filter that was established under different owners with different policies and different staff; the implication that the current staff is guilty of trying to stifle LGBTQ+ content because a lawsuit started before the Automattic purchase of tumblr ended in a financial settlement is just bad, wrong, incorrect, faulty logic. And if I might indulge in a bit of my own conspiracist thinking: I actually suspect a lot of the flagging and tagging and blocking of trans women specifically might actually be targeted attacks of individual users by terfs - many of the things that are getting flagged as needing a community label are things that use tags that terfs follow to attack and if enough users click "this needs a community label" the post will get flagged - I don't know that that's what's going on but just operating on occam's razor I think it's a lot more likely that terfs are coordinating attacks on trans people than that there is a secret group of cryptoterfs on staff taking time out of their day to ensure that trans users get flagged, if only because I think that the vocally trans positive former members of the staff would have said something about it.)

So, given that my position is "it is unlikely that anyone on staff is intentionally targeting LGBTQ+ groups HOWEVER prior policies enacted harm against LGBTQ+ groups and there is visible evidence that the current staff is trying to repair that damage" I'm not seeing any behaviors here that call for individual employees or users to get targeted with harassment from thousands of users.

But anyway, back to the specifics of the ask:

some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.

Do you have any idea how frequently amends are made and never circulated as widely as the callout post? Do you have any idea how frequently callout posts are incorrect, and exaggerate the things that need to be amended? I'm reminded of Lindsey Ellis, who was the victim of a years-long targeted harassment campaign and made multiple apologies over the years who was finally driven off of her primary platform because she carelessly misspoke and the people who had been targeting her for years were able to make a post that she had long disavowed and was a relic of her dealing with the aftermath of sexual violence go viral. The internet doesn't let people make amends; people see accusations. They see the first post, not the follow up. That's why starting these campaigns is shitty and dangerous even if you *personally* believe that you'll forgive an individual once they "make amends." (and the "amends" people usually demand are "i want this person gone from the internet forever and cut out of this part of their life" - that's not really something that's fair to ask of people when so much of the world is online these days.)

the people of wendy's have a moral right to scream at the manager if said manager sprays them in the neck with milkshake every time they go to pick up their order

No they don't. Straight up. If the manager of a wendy's sprays you in the neck with a milkshake you have the right to escalate your complaint right up the chain, take your business away and never come back, warn other people "hey the manager sprayed me with a milkshake, stay away," but you don't have the moral right to escalate the situation by screaming at them (and you certainly don't have that right if you happened to get sprayed with some milkshake while the manager was attempting to fix the frostee machine when you came to pick up your order, which I think is actually more analogous to what is happening here).

someone in ur notes constructing an equivalence between @tting staff and getting nuked to yelling at a wendy's manager and getting kicked out

A big point that I think you're missing here is that @-ing staff when there is a problem on a post or you see harassment is generally pretty acceptable (though much less effective than filing a support claim), but the issue under discussion isn't @-ing staff, it was pointing thousands of angry people at two specific people who are *part* of staff and holding those two individuals responsible for all the problems that users see with tumblr.

partyjockers got nuked because their post directed a flood of harassment at one staff member in a post where they had highlighted that user's URL and name:

This is explicitly saying "users like the one I screenshotted are the reason you're being attacked by terfs" because one member of staff posted fanart from two franchises that tumblr-the-userbase has deemed off limits.

(Do you have any idea how extreme a bubble this is? Do you walk into barnes and noble and sigh because the managers are fascists who want trans people dead because there's harry potter merch everywhere? JK rowling is a terf and a horrible fucking person and I am no longer personally comfortable engaging with that fandom but people posting fanart of a franchise are not personally attacking you even if it feels like they are disregarding your humanity; you cannot consider other people's participation in huge, popular, mainstream fandoms as a sign that they are plotting against you this is why i'm calling this conspiracist thinking the entire scorched earth conspiracy spawned from someone interpreting a staff member's art as esoteric signposts signalling their hatred of trans people. Do you remember when the stupid harry potter game came out and this entire website was despondent because it meant that people didn't care about trans people? That's not actually what it meant! What it meant is that the vast majority of people on the planet have neither a twitter nor a tumblr account and have no idea how shitty JK rowling is to trans people and they don't interpret "harry potter imagery" as "covert terf signal" they interpret it as "possibly the most mainstream fantasy series in the last fifty years")

This isn't someone calling out the manager after they spray you with a milkshake. The manager asking someone to leave after they started screaming that the cashier's earrings were hate speech.

This analogy got out of hand but please just understand that there's a difference between @-ing an account that people are paid to monitor as part of their jobs and that they have support and coworkers to help with and @-ing someone's personal account.

Nobody got a post deleted because the used @ staff, they got their posts deleted because they focused viral negative attention on individual users.

[haggishlyhagging]

In the early days, when the women's movement began to take on the pornography industry, people said: "It's pointless. It's hopeless. You can't go up against them. There's nothing we can do." Their power seemed so overwhelming because their money was overwhelming. The fact that they owned media made them a formidable kind of opponent. We didn't own very much. Their access to legitimacy—the stables of lawyers that they have to protect their interests; what were we going to do in the face of all of this?

And we would take our raggedy little signs and we would march 10,000 miles in a circle. And we'd be tired and dead and defeated, and we would say, "We're not getting anywhere." And the next day we would go out again, and we would march another 10,000 miles in another circle somewhere. And all over this country, in cities and in towns, everywhere, women were activists against pornography.

The media never reported it. Whole bunches of people didn't care about it. But feminism was alive and well throughout the country because women were activists on the issue of pornography and, at the same time, were using pornography to build a very sophisticated and new understanding of the reality of sexual abuse: how all the sexual abuses cohere to hurt us, to put us down, to turn us into commodities.

Then in Minneapolis we developed a civil-rights law, and suddenly the pornographers understood that we were trying to take their money away from them. Not only were all these strange little women marching in circles and making themselves dizzy, but we actually thought we were going to walk into a courtroom and say: "We're breaking your piggybanks open, and we're taking all your change, and we're using it for women. That's what we're going to do." Their reaction, their mobilization against the civil-rights ordinance, has been spectacular. It hasn't been spectacular because they think the ordinance isn't going to work. Their anger, their hostility, their frustration, their aggression, is because finally they take us seriously as a political presence that can hurt them.

And, horribly, at exactly the same moment, the ground collapses out of the women's movement. And everybody turns into chicken shit and runs. Now we try not to tell them that. We try to keep it to ourselves as much as we can and we don't say, "Well, you know, really, we use mirrors." We have approached them as if we know what we're doing, as if we know what they're doing, as if we know what they're going to do tomorrow the same way that we figured out what they did yesterday.

But the reality is that the will to destroy them has gone out of fashion, because destroying them is a bad thing, because destroying them is censorship. And if little Bob Guccione can't say what he wants to say—even though he happens to need a woman's body to say it—then the country is poorer in ideas, in political freedom—our political freedom, we're told. We have to protect him in order to protect our political freedom. Our bodies are his language that he's expressing himself in, and our responsibility is to make sure that he keeps doing it.

And the horror has been that women have fallen for it, women have bought into it, women have been intimidated, women have been shut up in defense of this First Amendment that is not even ours to use. You have to be able to express your communication before it's entitled to First Amendment protection and you can't express it if you are too poor, not to mention if you are too crazy, which a hell of a lot of women are after what we have all been through, not to mention if you have been silenced by sexual abuse, not to mention if it began when you were a child, and you have been fighting, and fighting, and fighting for your identity and your integrity because somebody tried to destroy it back then before it was even fully formed. This silence that we live in is supposed to be okay. We're supposed to accept it.

-Andrea Dworkin, “Resistance” in The Sexual Liberals and the Attack on Feminism

[lalunanymph]

BLACKMAIL KISS — h. ran

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── a single night of rebellion against your husband, the mayor of Tokyo, in an underground Roppongi club, traps you right in Haitani Ran's web of blackmail and deceit—where every move you make could potentially be your last one.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── a bonten!haitani ran miniseries inspired by hametsu no itte

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── bonten timeline, fem!reader, wife!reader, reader is feminine coded (wears dresses, heels, makeup) DARK CONTENT, blackmail, political drama, HEAVY TOPICS PROCEED WITH CAUTION, orgasm control, petnames (good girl, slut), flashbacks, sir kink, suspension bondage, audio kink, blindfolds, voyuerism, previous master kink, past flings (ran), mentions of public play, nipple play, penetrative sex (like FINALLY)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── bittersweet blackmail with this playlist

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── masterlist

#3: when the curtains call the time

“R-Ran—”

Your soft whimper was cut off by the low squelching sounds of your fingers connecting with your heat.

His voice was a calm exhale, low and sensual like expensive silk. “Are you close, slut?” 

You nodded, though he couldn’t see you over the line. “Yes, Sir,” you amended, lifting your hips, hungrily pressing your phone harder to your ear to catch snatches of his deep, erotic growl. 

“Good girl. Get to the edge for me.” 

Working on your clit faster, your erratic circles soon had you poised over the edge, ready to spill all over your palm; days which turned into weeks of denial and edging left you sensitive enough to get to the crest of your pleasure easier. 

“I’m close,” you huffed, eyes roving up to the ceiling, imagining it was paneled with mirrors like a bedroom you often fantasize about. “Can I cum, Sir?” 

Realistically, you knew he would never let you spill, let alone get that close to the edge. But, for the sake of your sanity, you held out for the slimmest glimmer of hope that Ran would change his mind. Your bedroom door was firmly locked, the maids ordered to not disturb your beauty sleep, your husband already in the office and unaware of your devious doings.

“Hmm, let me think it through…” he trailed off, and you knew better than to stop touching yourself. “Ha. I think if you want to cum, you need to do something for me first.”

“Anything.” The agreement slipped past your lips easily, a barely controlled thought which sealed your fate the second Ran chuckled. 

“Anything? You’re so precious,” he cooed. “Well, if you insist…” 

Nothing could prepare you for his next words.

“I want you to inform your husband to focus his raids on Sumida,” Ran started, leaving both your body and mind wrought with tension at the mention of Makko. “He’s pushing Azabu too much, yeah? But, nearby the river is where he’ll flush out the gang he’s finding for. If you direct him to it… maybe I might let you cum.” 

Sugar coating his intentions, Ran sighed. “It’s been so long since you last came, huh? I bet you dream about it—fantasize about it. I want you to cum, too. I bet you’d look so pretty breaking all over my cock.”

You physically throbbed at his words, suddenly at a loss for words. “Ngh, S-Sir—I-I don’t know if I c-can—”

“You can,” Ran urged. “You’re my slut. And I only pick the best sluts. You can get the job done, beautiful.” He sighed, sounding completely mournful when he whispered, “Now, stop touching yourself, beautiful. Have you stopped touching?”

Hiccuping back a sob, your body pulsed with the familiar pangs of denial, your pussy sensitive enough to need a single lick or stroke to have you careen down the edge. Your mind was filled with cotton, ears ringing like you were standing under a waterfall. But, still. You obeyed him.

“Yes, Sir. I stopped.”

“Good girl,” Ran’s praise soaked into your soul, making you feel warm and glowing on the inside. “Tell me how it goes. I’ll be here for you, beautiful. Once you get it done, come over to my penthouse. I have a surprise waiting for you.”

Clicking the call off, you were met with the stinging rejection of the dial tone and your own body’s denied impulses. 

Ran’s words swam in your head, and you wondered how you would accomplish such a feat. Once the fog of desire rolled over, you were left with the stark skies of an impossible mission. If you even mentioned this to Makko, he would question you, and your entire affair with Ran would come to light.

If you asked your assistant to send word to any senator or politician in the defense position, they would become suspicious and let your husband know.

Your hands were tied—both figuratively and metaphorically. You had no control over this situation, and you sensed that if you caved in and told Ran of your incompetence, he would release your videos and photos to Makko. 

Heart thrumming, you sat up, suddenly feeling too naked. 

Throwing on a robe, you drew your knees to your clothed chest, gripping the roots of your hair as your mind raced with the numerous possibilities. 

One name came to your mind, and you decided to give it a shot, wondering if she would even pick up. The wife of a defense attorney you had met a few months ago who promised to give the recipe of her sticky toffee cupcakes if you ever called her out for lunch. 

Mrs. Hiroyu Shima was her name, and you vaguely remembered that she had ash blonde hair. Her husband was attached to Tokyo PD, and if you let it slip to her in the most casual way possible of the Sumida gangs, she would most definitely inform her husband.

One could only hope. As the dial tone kept on going, you were sure you would either chicken out or this wouldn't work, but to your surprise, she answered after a beat.

“Hello?” 

“Shima-san?” 

Gasping, she recognised your voice. “Tsunake-san. What a pleasure. How can I help you?” 

You giggled at her instant recognition. “I’m so glad you remembered me, Shima-san. I was craving for some cake today and remembered your amazing sticky toffee cupcakes from the Christmas gala last year. What would you say if we meet up for lunch so you can share the recipe with me?” 

Your reputation as the mayor’s wife preceded you, and any wife within the fishbowl world of politics and social ass kissing would be itching to earn your acquaintance. Sometimes, you barely understood the power you held, and in this moment, you were glad your husband’s name was still attached with yours—that people were still eager to please you even when you had already fallen so far from grace behind their knowledge.

“Of course,” Shima said enthusiastically. “I would love to see you for lunch. Shall we meet up at that new omakase restaurant near Sumida station?” 

It was like the gates of heaven had opened up for you—calling forth your redemption in one single shining moment.

“Actually, I think we need to stay away from Sumida for a bit,” you kept your voice low, fraught with worry.

“Why?” Shima asked, and you heard her gasp again. “Tsunake-san, do you know something we don’t?” 

“Mhm hmm,” your tone turned conspiratory. “I saw my husband’s files—you know he’s running for Mayor again this term, right?” you threw in that little tidbit, sounding harangued and catching her attention. “And he’s trying to get gang activity down around Tokyo before the elections. I didn’t tell him, but I overheard one beat cop talking at the local council about how Sumida is a hot bed. But, my husband won’t listen to me so I don’t know who else to confide in.” 

Grasping at straws, you made something up on the spot. “Did you hear how a fire started out at one of the warehouses? I think it was Sumida. Those gangs are getting fiercer day by day. I’m just so afraid if it borders closer to us because we’re right in the next district.” 

“Oh dear,” Shima sounded worried. “My husband may know better. Should I let him know of your suspicions? Maybe then he’ll put a word to his superior.” 

Closing your eyes, you pumped your fist. Your voice was steady when you said, “I think that would be great, Shima-san. At least someone would look into it and your husband is a capable man. Makko mentioned his brilliance once.”

Except, he didn’t. Your husband didn’t even know who the Shimas were, which was a shame considering what allies they could make in such a troubling time. 

Shima swooned, her short laugh equal parts embarrassed and equal parts delighted. “That is great to hear. My Hiroyu would love to know how the Mayor recognizes his hard work.”

“He should,” you preened, digging deeper into her glee. “Let’s hope Hiroyu-san can help Tokyo out and make it a better city. It would be my honor to commend him to the position of Chief of Defence if the time ever came—you know, to my husband.”

You threw a bone to her, one which she latched onto with rapture. Like all the power-hungry wives of the political world would. “That is so kind of you, Tsunake-san. I can’t wait to meet for lunch. Shall we see each other today if you are free?”

“Yes,” you said with a wide smile. 

“Today would be perfect. And don’t forget to keep your purse at home, Shima-san! Lunch is on me.” 

–

A little boy with blonde hair was staring sullenly at the emerald expanse of the football field, his stomach tight with hunger. 

He was under the shaded veranda, far away from the bustling cafeteria just next door where laughter, chatter and cries could be heard. 

The bruise under his right rib cage was starting to hurt, and he would have to ask his mother to make it feel better. The bruise under her eye would be the same shade of black, too. His papa had made sure to leave a matching set to show how enraged he was at them for reacting poorly to his confession.

His fucking sin he dragged back home in the shape of a boy two years younger than Ran with matching lilac eyes and a different mother.

His mother passed away last night—he needs to be fed.

Somewhere above the same bruise, an emotional one started to throb. 

He clutched his midsection, fending off the hunger and heartbreak with dull, lifeless eyes. If only this day would end soon. 

There was a movement behind him, and a voice took him off guard.

“Hello.” 

Ran swiveled around to find a girl holding a lunchbox, her polished class monitor badge gleaming on her tie. He narrowed his eyes, anticipating trouble; puffing out as much of his chest as a seven year old kid could. 

She blinked at him, and pointed to his stomach, right where the bruise was. “Why do you keep touching yourself there? Are you hungry?” 

Before he could speak, she ambled over to him in her squeaky black shoes. Ran flinched when she sat down next to him, opening up her bento box. Removing a perfectly wrapped onigiri, she munched on it, fixing her eyes on him. 

He eyed the meal in her hand hungrily, licking his lips without noticing her eyes widening.

As if she were sent to save him when he needed it the most, she unwrapped the other onigiri and passed it to him with a small smile.

“An empty stomach is a hungry mind,” was what she murmured, but he heard her loud and clear. 

Ran, seven years old and starving, wrenched it out of her hand. He sneered at her, a blonde, skinny child with chapped lips and bruises decorating his body he kept hidden behind his uniform—biting into the miso onigiri with gusto. 

For a moment, the two children ate together, not caring about etiquettes or status quo.

Just basking in a bright day. 

Once Ran finished, he stood up. The girl looked up at him, those stupid wide eyes making his blood boil and gut churn with spite. 

If she was expecting his thanks, she wasn’t going to get it. 

Her cry rebounded across the field when he shoved her down, stomping away; blind to the tears accumulating in her eyes.

She never called out for him or got him in trouble. Ran had kept his eyes peeled on teachers roaming around the school but none of them approached him or tried to call his parents.

His secret was never spoken out loud and the girl never crossed paths with him again. 

Or, so he thought. 

Ran could hardly believe his ears during today’s strategy meeting.

It started when Kokonoi walked in, silver hair laid pristinely around his face, a stack of files in his manicured hands as he stared down the long table of executives waiting for him to speak. At the head, Mikey sat, munching on a taiyaki and harboring a deadened look in his black eyes. Impatient for Kokonoi to get this meeting over and done with.

“Sumida has fallen,” Hajime started off with a batshit gleeful smile. Rummaging in the stack of files, he removed a piece of intel gathered across their black market servers, stunning every executive in the face who couldn’t believe the words written on that incriminating piece of paper.

Sumida—the Black Dragon stronghold—was up for grabs to the heftiest bidder. Bonten had a chance of expansion. 

Ran sat back in his chair, his mind reeling. He hadn’t heard from you for a week since the last edging session, and he assumed you had chickened out—that you had tucked in your tail and came clean to your husband about your affair. But, Ran was pleasantly surprised to find that he had underestimated you all along. 

She did it, he thought in disbelief. She really did it. 

He would have to reward you soon. Such obedience deserved a big compensation. 

“Sir,” your feathery exhale made Ran’s gut tightened, an implicit reaction to your bound body swaying lightly in the middle of his living room.

You looked good in red. The hued jute ropes vined around your arms, your body lifted slightly off the ground; legs spread wide and waiting, was a scintillating vision. 

Those wet, doe eyes trailed after his every move, beseeching for him to show you some mercy. 

Ran plastered on a sympathetic grin, padding up to you with a look you were starting to know all too well. He had on a light button down shirt with some charcoal grey slacks—a picture of ease while you struggled to hold onto your composure with every light sway of your body. 

His touch on your thigh was not unwelcomed, though you squirmed, wishing he would take his hand up higher. “I heard the brave thing you did with the Shimas. I have to say—I’m impressed. And proud. I’m proud of you.”

Like a flower blooming under the warmth of his praise, your chest swelled, eyes glistening. “Thank you, Sir.”

He cupped your face, allowing one moment of weakness where his expression crumpled at the edges with tenderness. Brushing back a loose piece of hair behind your ear, Ran hummed, “It must’ve taken you a lot of courage. I think you’re very brave.”

You preened under his touch, batting your lashes and arching your back. “Thank you, Sir.”

The scent of him—citrus and like the ocean—made you dizzy with need. Especially when he came up behind you, curving his larger body closer to yours, drowning you with his heat. One hand spread across your stomach, gripping your body softly, while the other one drifted in between your legs, finding your sacred spot—cupping it protectively.

“Do you trust me, slut?” Ran’s breath touched your earlobe, and you nodded, mouth falling open before you registered how wanton your reactions were.

“Y-yes.” 

“Do you love me?” 

You were struck mute, unsure of what to say. Ran chuckled, teasingly smacking your thigh. “I’m joking, slut. You don’t have to answer that. I don’t think I want to know the answer, either.”

Touching your hips, Ran eased his palms up your body, feeling your outline underneath his touch. Every inch of you was tense with anticipation, wondering what he had up his sleeve. Your lover was an enigma—his actions and expression unreadable. You wondered what he would do next.

As if answering your silent thoughts, Ran eased something thick and silky over your eyes, snorting when you flinched and squealed in surprise. 

“It’s a blindfold. You’re not scared of the dark, are you, slut?” 

You shook your head, hair falling right in front of your face. Ran pushed your errant locks back, admiring the proud jut of your chin as you tried to keep your posture held high and unbothered.

He was going to make you beg on your knees; Ran wanted to see you melted into a puddle of your own desire.

A smirk decorated his lips, and he picked up a pair of headphones charging on a console, clamping it around your ears. Your gasp resounded through his penthouse, and Ran touched your thigh, silently telling you he was still here. That you could trust him. 

With the darkness and stillness keeping you locked in a state of limbo, all you could feel was your heartbeat rapidly thudding in your chest; hear the blood roaring in your ears. Your breath came out in shuddering waves, anticipating Ran’s next move. 

You never expected the soft stream of moans or another woman’s voice moaning out your lover’s name to filter through your ears. 

“Ran-san, I-I can’t hold it anymore.” Accompanying her mewls were soft squelches that sounded suspiciously like someone fingering a wet pussy. It all came to a head when Ran spoke, his voice low and seductive through the audio. 

“Then, cum, my slut.” 

You physically heard the relief in that strange woman’s voice when her moan broke off, her heavy breathing and low chanting of his name making you feel hot all over. 

Someone touched your belly, and you flinched with a quick gasp. The touch smoothed over your hip, as if to reassure you, and you trusted it enough to let it trail down to your pulsing pussy.

Behind the blindfold, your eyes were rapidly twitching, opening and closing to the pressing darkness.

Another recording started, and to your shock, it was another woman on the precipice of an orgasm. She sounded like she was close to mania, her high-pitched keen going straight to your throbbing clit. Your hips undulated, and the touch on your clit moved to your twitching hole—a single finger bullying through your tight heat.

Without warning, you whimpered, back arching and toes curling. The strange woman spoke, distracting you from the blistering pleasure. 

“Ran… Master… you’re driving me i-insane.” 

His chuckle was both confident and sarcastic, when he replied, “Serves you right for putting on a show in front of my colleagues. This is your punishment—take it.” 

You flinched again when you heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh, the other woman’s moan offsetting the twinge of pain in her cry. 

“Fuck—I’m sorry, Master. F-forgive your slut.” 

Ran didn’t speak, but from the sounds of sucking and smacking lips, you could deduce he was busy between her legs, lapping at her desperation while her pitchy mewls kept you on your toes. 

Right in front of you, you felt the minute movement of a body shift, as if someone was getting to his knees. A tongue dragged across your pelvis bone, rough and leaving behind a trail of spit. You giggled, shrinking away, but Ran held your hips firmly in his two larger hands, tilting your lower body up at an angle. Another lick, this time on the crease of your inner thigh, had your breathing stuttering, mind running on pure adrenaline.

He’s going to eat me out—he’s finally going to eat me out. 

The woman in the audio cried out his name, and you could plainly picture Ran in between her shapely thighs, sucking on her clit as her back bowed and she came lustily. 

“Oh, Master,” she sobbed. “Thank you, thank you. Thank you.” 

Another recording started, this one scratchier, like it was taped outside. A woman was breathing heavily, as if she were in pain. An insidious trickle of dread ran up your spine, and you almost yelled out for him to stop when you felt the broad stroke running right through your soaked folds.

“Mhm!” The audio was too loud for you to discern what was happening all around you, but even with the distraction, you could plainly hear the ache in your involuntary moan. Ran’s tongue traced figure 8s on your sensitive clit, and as the recording became clearer, you heard the woman’s heavy breathing turned into sensuous whines. Blood pounded through your veins, flooding all the way south, right to your shuddering pussy. 

Down on his knees, your lover mouthed your folds, his tongue sliding through your drenched seam with the ease of a hot knife running through butter. As he suckled on your clit almost tenderly, the woman in the recording cried out, her heavy breathing turned laborious. Like she was an inch away from cumming her brains out. 

“Do it,” Ran in the audio goaded. “Cum for me right in front of all these people, slut. Make a mess on my fingers.” 

Fuck, your brain synapses pieced two and two together, the reality of what was happening in the recording making you throb everywhere. Ran had actually made this poor girl cum in public. Was it in a park? Did they hide in the bushes? Was she wearing a skirt to give him access to her poor, vulnerable cunt? 

Suddenly, the reason why he blindfolded you made complete sense. The darkness and lack of details made your imagination run on overtime, which was, in reality, the most potent aphrodisiac when you had no other choice than to picture these lewd ministrations on your own. 

Sick, sick bastard. Haitani Ran would be the death of you.

That distracting, warm mouth continued to lap at your pussy, and without warning, you felt two slim fingers sink into your aching core, stroking your walls and catching on a sensitive spot which made you cry out. Ran kissed, sucked and flicked your tender nub, until you swore the women moaning in the audio and your groans were indistinguishable. 

“Ran, Ran… Sir… Sir…” 

You were panting out his name, twisting in your bonds. He moved his mouth up your body, briefly tonguing your erect nipples. He nipped your neck, nosed your jaw and eventually found your lips. 

Fuck me, please—don’t keep me waiting any longer. His tongue danced with yours, leaving your own juices coating your tastebuds. Ran kissed you like he wanted to destroy every shred of sanity which kept you hesitant to give all of yourself to him. 

Your walls were now flimsy barriers, standing on a shaky foundation which crumbled even more every time he pressed his mouth to your wide open one. Every stroke of his tongue winning this battle of wills left you gasping and groaning. Those pesky headphones tilted askew, giving you a brief respite—allowing you to listen to his heavy breathing when he devoured your lips with the mastery of a man knowing exactly how to make a woman beg for her sanity back. 

Ran chuckled, righting the headphones, and once again, your world was consumed by countless hussies moaning, crying out, cumming and screaming for your lover to give them the gift of their own denied orgasm. 

How many women have been subjected to this same torture? Were you one of many who found themselves in this position? 

Something hot and heavy stabbed under your ribs at that thought—making you wonder just exactly how special you were in comparison to those other women; if you even made a difference in Ran Haitani’s life. 

But, in the split second jealousy managed to rear her head, she was tamed back down when you sensed his fingers ghosting your weeping slit. Circling your entrance, pushing two fingers through your fluttering walls with ease. You must be dripping onto his carpet; your shame staining the expensive fabric.

“Fuck me!” This new woman sobbed, sounding deranged and on the edge. “Fuck me, Haitani! I need you now.” 

Two fingers pushed through your mouth, saturating your tastebuds with the flavor of your own desperation. You lapped at his digits, silently beseeching for him to push them further down your throat—anything to be perforated with Ran’s presence deep in your body. 

You exhaled a soft moan, nipples taut enough to be almost painful. “Ran,” you moaned, though you barely heard yourself over his other submissive’s cries. “P-please… fuck me.” 

Having no idea whether he even heard you in the first place, the best bet you had was to be still and wait. The wanton audible whore was now squirting, your lover encouraging her to drench his tongue, urging her release with low, filthy groans.

Would Ran moan exactly like that when he sank deep into your pussy? 

Your hips circled at that thought; being suspended in midair only drew the anticipation out cruelly. Minutes seemed to pass where there was nothing but your heartbeat drowning the women’s moans. Where you could feel every ridge of the ropes digging into your arms, your wrists, and clenched on the rough jute in between your tight grip like it was your literal lifeline. 

Ran? You murmured. Ran? Master? 

Warm lips touched your shoulder, trailing to your jaw. A soft kiss fell right onto your parted mouth. 

And then, Ran gripped your cheeks, spreading them. 

Easing the blunt head of his cock right into your pulsating pussy; finally giving you what you deserved. 

a/n: WE IN IT NOW GANG (literally)

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy the concept, sentence structures and scenes without prior permission from the creator.

[thewritetofreespeech]

May I request Nanami and Gojo finding out their s/o got disowned by her father, who is one of the higher-ups, because she showed mercy and defended Yuuji?

Nanami Kento

It was late at night when he got the knock at the door. So late, in fact, that Nanami was just about to go to bed, already in his pajamas with his teeth brushed, when he heard it.

“[Y/N]?” He asked curiously when he saw them there. Standing in front of his door, looking a mixture of distraught, sad, and just hopeless. A strange case given that they were usually so confident and strong as a Special Grade Sorcerer. “What’s wrong? Has someone died?”

“No. No one has died. I guess that’s the problem.” Nanami arched a brow at their cryptic comment, before they let out a shaky sigh. “Can I stay here tonight?”

He of course let them in. Offering tea or some kind of comforting drink, although they don’t take him up on the offer. “Will you tell me what’s wrong, please?”

They eventually break down and tell him everything. About the boy that ate one of Sukuna’s fingers. How he was slated for execution, which was cruel but reasonable in their world, and how that idiot had them stick their neck out to vouch for the boy’s hold even though they didn’t know a thing about him. Of course, Nanami knew that they would speak up for him. They had an incredible sense of morality and standing up for the weak. ‘That’s the job, isn’t it?’ They had told him that more than once.

Apparently not everyone shared their noble heart, it seemed. Not even those in her own family. For standing up to the higher ups and ‘embarrassing’ the family her father kicked her out with threats of disownment and banishment. Whether or not he meant to follow through would be a problem for tomorrow, but right now she was out on the street. Which in his opinion was unforgiveable already.

“You can stay here as long as you like.” Nanami told them. Amending their original request from earlier to stay the night.

[Y/N] sniffle once, but seem hell bent on refusing to cry. Nanami told them to take a shower if they wanted and he would find them some clothes to sleep in. They literally had nothing on them. So they would have to make do.

Both of them now in pajamas with their teeth brushed, [Y/N] curled up beside him and tried to get some sleep. It seemed a struggle, but the emotional exhaustion took hold, he thinks, and they both try to get the best night sleep possible for the hell that was to greet them in the morning.

Gojo Satoru

Gojo whistled down the hall as he made his way from one part of campus to the other. He was quite pleased with himself.

It wasn’t every day he got to ridicule and humiliate the higher-ups; despite his attempts and life’s goal to make it an everyday occurrence on his part. Those old fools didn’t know what hit ‘em when Gojo plead his case and told them what happened. He might not have gotten this Yuji kid off scot-free, but he bought him some time. That’s all he needed for Gojo’s master plan to come to fruition (whatever it was).

He passed a familiar doorway and saw a light was on. Thinking it had been left on by mistake, he invited himself in and was surprised to see [Y/N] there. Boxes on their desk as they were throwing things into it.

“Hey, isn’t it a little early for spring cleaning?”

“Not for me.” They told him. “I have to be out of here by morning.” Gojo tilted his head to the side, so they explained further. “I’ve been sacked.”

Gojo’s face was one of alarm. “Wait. What are you talking about?” They couldn’t have been fired. Really? For what??

“Apparently my behavior at the council meeting was ‘unbecoming of an educator at this institution’.”

Gojo growled in his throat. “That’s bullshit! I was there too, and it was my idea! I did all the talking!”

“Yes, but I don’t have the Gojo name to defend me.” His ire and shoulder fell. Oh shit….

“They seriously fired you?” [Y/N] nodded. He clicked his teeth. “Can’t you do something? Your dad maybe?” He’d hate to ask him for any favors, but if it kept [Y/N] here they should take it.

“Who do you think signed my ‘death warrant’?”

He wanted to say he was surprised, but he wasn’t.

“I’m sorry [Y/N]. I didn’t realize that you might –“you did the right thing Satoru. Even if it was originally for selfish reasons.” He sighed. So he guessed they knew that the only reason he initially did this was to piss this old coots off. They lifted the box and put in on their hip. “I’ll be fine. I’m not exiled entirely. Not yet. I’m still a Special Grade. Still can go on missions.”

“Yeah. Ones that will get you killed.” They all knew what happened to people who weren’t Gojo that stood up to the council. They were given mission in far off places and then ‘died under mysterious circumstances’ while in Brazil or Cameroon or something.

[Y/N] let out a bitter chuckle. “They’d have to catch me first. For now, I need to find a place to stay. Get an apartment. They took away my professor housing too, and I obviously can’t go home to dear-old-dad.”

“You’re staying with me.” Gojo cut in quickly.

[Y/N] seemed surprised, but quickly schooled it into coy. “Ooo….I never thought we’d be in a point in our relationship where we were moving in together.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

Gojo grabbed the box they were carrying and helped carry it out. “I really am sorry.” He apologized on the way.

“I know.” They told him. But that was all they said this time. No ‘you had a good reason’, ‘you did what you could’, ‘it’s not your fault’. He suddenly felt all the more guilty. He had to remember more often that just because things couldn’t touch him, that other people weren’t as lucky. Collateral damage was something he never thought of. He’d need to think about that more in the future. Especially with his new student.

[gilverrwrites]

The Best You Ever Had

Jason Todd/Reader, 1.7K

A/N: Welp, as promised here’s that self-serving, mildly fucked up Jason Todd/Reader scenario I mentioned earlier. I’m working on I don’t fall, I fly chapter two I swear, but I had to get this unhinged Jason idea out of my head if I’m gonna concentrate. I don’t remember the exact details of the plotline I’m branching off of here 100% so if it’s inaccurate sue me. Warnings: Darker portrayal of Jason. Unhealthy relationship to slightly less unhealthy relationship, non-graphic mentions of death, grief, dub-con, manipulation, abuse of authority kinda, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, swearing, size difference, hair pulling.

Right so, remember when Jason went balls to the wall on absoloutely fucking ruining Penguins’ life after finding out he was responsible for the death of his birth father?

Okay, now imagine you’re working at The Iceberg at the time, as a waitress, a card dealer, dancer, whatever you fancy, it’s mainly just a cover for the fact that you’re actually Ozwald’s sugar baby.

You’re practically attached to his hip. Sure, he can be a bit much at times, a bit mean, but he’s real sweet on you. There isn’t a thing in this world he wouldn’t do for you, no clothes or gadgets too expensive, no jewels too well-guarded, 'cause you’re his favourite gal. At least you were until you watched Red Hood shoot him in the head on live TV.

Ozzie had paid your rent, your bills, everything, he’d showered you with gifts, but he’d never dealt you actual cash. Without his bank account to fund your checks, you have nothing, not unless you sell off your material possessions. So, not only are you grieving, but you’re forced to pick up as many extra shifts as you can in order to afford to keep up your lifestyle.

Being at The Lounge only reminds you of him, which makes your sorrows worse. You were never bad at the cover job, in fact, it’s how you got your foot in the door. But your emotions are affecting your performance, and when your new boss, Jason Todd, calls you into his office for a performance review, you’re pretty much resigned to the fact that you’re about to be fired.

However, Mr Todd is surprisingly chill. Understanding even. He doesn’t grill you; he just points out that your performance as of late does not match up with Cobblepots files and asks why? What can we do to fix it?

You feel comfortable explaining that you and his predecessor were close, and so his sudden death has hit you hard. You need time to mourn but can’t afford the time off.

When a tear rolls down your cheek you start to feel self conscious until he rounds the desk, crouching in front of you and presenting you with a tissue. He offers you the weekend off, paid, and promises to look into amending the shoddy bereavement policy Oz had enforced. But for now, commiserating may help, and he’s happy to listen, to be a shoulder to cry on.

So, you take the tissue, dabbing up all the tears that fall as you tell him about your arrangement. How Oz had done so much for you, got you out of a pit, how no matter what your friends and family thought, Ozzie really did have your best interests at heart, you swear. Mr Todd nods along, offering a polite laugh when you tell him a funny story, or pulling faces when you recall some of Oz’s less-than-savoury moments. His disapproval makes you feel validated in your distaste for some of the seedier things you’d let Oz get away with because he loved you.

After a while, you move from the desk to the conversation pit which sits beside a floor to ceiling fish tank. You can’t help commending him for keeping on top of looking after the fish and their habitat, it’s a lot of work. He tells you it’s one of his favourite things in the whole building and you agree, recalling how you used to spend hours watching the fish go about their existence when Ozzie would call for you only to spend the evening ignoring you whilst he dealt with 'business'. Jason says that you’re more than welcome to come see the fishes any time you like.

He's so much kinder than you’d expected. Which is why you don’t move when you feel his hand on your back, drawing you closer with strong arms until the warmth of his breath brushes your neck. It’s been weeks since you’d gotten this close with anyone. You hadn’t realised how much you’d craved the intimacy until it was handed to you.

And shit, he smells good too. Looking into his undeniably handsome face you’re struck with guilt for having enjoyed the company, the touch of another man and can’t help the second? third? who knows, wave of tears.

The tissue he’s given you is too sodden to do anything, so he reaches up with his long, surprisingly coarse fingers to wipe up your tears, and you let him.

Your weeping soon starts to ebb after that, but the few droplets that fall regardless are dried by his lips as he boldly presses kisses to your cheeks, and again, you let him.

“You shouldn’t waste your tears on that asshole.” The way he stares into your eyes as he speaks, it almost feels like he’s daring you to challenge him. “You’ll be better off without him.”

Out of respect for Oz, or maybe to defend yourself you bite back at him. “He’s not- he wasn’t an asshole! Not to me.” But you both know it’s a lie.

Before either of you say something you’ll regret, you decide to do something you’ll regret instead. In sync, you both crash your lips together, and Jason all but forces you onto your back with his body weight, his tongue pushing between your lips as his hands work at your uniform.

He’s nothing like Oz. His hands are strong and deft, free of perspiration as they pop your buttons with precision and knead at your newly exposed skin. His mouth, while steeped with a hint of beer, tastes clean. He looks at you with a reverence you’d never experienced before as he draws back to look you in the eye.

“Let me treat you the way you deserve, the way a real man should.” He begs, and when you nod, he practically starts tearing at his clothes. You work on his belt while he pulls his shirt and waistcoat over his head, too impatient to bother with his own buttons.

Your eyes bulge, heart plummeting to your stomach when he pulls down his boxers, exposing a dauntingly large erection.

“Bet you’ve not seen something this big in a long time.” He suggests with a smirk.

“No, I’ve never seen anything that big.” You offer, shuddering when he teases the tips between your slit, grazing your clit. “I don’t think I can take something like that.”

“You will.” His confidence goes straight to your already hungry centre. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it easy on you.”

You gasp when you feel friction at your entrance, and Jason chuckles into the crook of your neck, gently fussing in your ear as he slips a single finger inside you. True to his word, Jason makes the whole thing (mostly) painless and effortless, working his fingers into you one at a time, scissoring his digits and massaging your sensitive clit until you're stretched out and cumming all over his palm, staining the sofa beneath you. Purring to you all the while about how tight and plush your pussy is, how fucking good his cock is gonna make you feel, how he can’t wait to make you forget all about Cobblepot by making you gush all over his dick again and again.

When you’re partly lucid again, coming down from your first orgasm Jason lifts you with ease. He sits back against the couch, settling between your legs so that you’re straddling him. Guiding you onto his cock, thrusting from below, drawing a sinful cry from you as he fills you in one quick movement. It wasn’t unbearable, in fact, you’re a little flustered by the ease with which your pussy sucked him up, but your walls still throb from the final stretch of him buried in the depth at which his impossibly long fingers hadn’t been able to reach.   

His hands grip and caress and pinch every part of you, soaking in every inch as you ride him out, grinding your hips against his, using his body to chase your second release. His lips latch along your torso, sucking and biting his mark into your skin. This time, once you've successfully fucked yourself to climax on his dick, he doesn’t wait for you to come back down. Flipping you over and pushing you forward, he puts you on your hands and knees, presented for him on the coffee table so he can pound into you from behind.

Once he’s coaxed another orgasm out of you there, he carries you to his desk. He fucks you over and over. Revelling in every heated orgasm he rips from you, eating up your sob. He takes you on every surface. The floor, the walls, the window. He even presses you face first against the fishtank, making you watch your reflection in its mirrored back, and you are a pornographic sight to behold; lips dark and swollen from his kisses, hair tangled in his fist, tits pressed against the glass as he pistons in and out of your twitchingly overstimulated, cunt. Every thrust is slick, punctuated by the wet slap of your hips coming together. By this point, Jason’s unending strength is the only thing keeping you upright.

“That bird creep ever fuck you this good, baby?” He grunts into your ear, dark eyes glaring at you through the glass. From this angle you can see how his body practically engulfs yours; the reflection showcasing how his massive palms seem herculean when pinning you. All night he’d been throwing you around, bending and posing you to his will like a doll in his sturdy arms. Something Oz could never do.  

“No, god no Jason!” You whine. Drool spills from your lips as you try to speak. It catches on the glass, smearing back on your face but you’re too utterly fucked, too cock drunk to be embarrassed. “Nobody… never been… fucked like…”

When you don’t finish your sentence Jason laughs, it almost sounds cruel and sends a shockwave to the clit you long thought had been abused to numbness. “Am I the best fuck you ever had?”

“Yes! Yesyesyesyes.” You chant. Completely oblivious to the fact that your sugar daddy, Oswald Cobblepot is not dead. He’s very much alive, and very much not well as he watches Jason Todd fuck the brains out of his best gal from his prison on the other side of the one-way mirror. 

[lilacgaby]

return to main menu?

- bakugo katsuki

"what are we?" "...nothing. right?"

convienence. a means to end. that's all this was for both of you right? when katsuki is fed up with the crazed fangirls who just won't leave him alone, he works out a deal with you. it was just coincidence he had a huge crush on you.

to kiss or kill.. a vampire?

you've been a vampire for as long as you can remember. you were going through your day, or night, routine as normal when a noise startles you. a man, katsuki bakugo to be exactly, was standing at your door. though, he can't seem to rember whether he's supposed to kill or kiss you...

I've changed, won't you see?

summary: katsuki ruined your life when you were small, giving you a life altering injury, though getting nothing more than a pat on the back. throughout his successes he can't get you out of his mind, so he sets out to make amends with you.

running out of time, to make you love me.

THE PRINCE'S BALL was to be had on his 18th birthday. the week before, you realize the feelings you have harbored over the years for him. little did you know you were both fighting against the time restraint placed on him.

die for you.

after an attempt on your life, the royal family turns to promising young blood, hoping to find someone to protect you. katsuki was chosen and ended up dedicating himself to you in a way even he never predicted.

excuses, excuses

katsuki had left you, overwhelmed by the situation you two were now tied to. now, when he finally reaches his dreams, he realizes victory doesn't taste as sweet without you.

my first, my last, my everything.

summary: katsuki left that life behind for you. but when the life you two built from scratch together was threatened, what else could he do but go back?

my last, my everything.

ride or die

you'd been partnered up with the hotheaded speed racer, katsuki. who knew he'd end up more interested in you then the races he'd win?

crayons and connections

after a harsh relationship he really didn't want another try at romance for a while. at least, not until he hired you. he thought he loved the way you cared for his kids, but you both knew it was something more.

*truth bomb! (f,h)

in which a lovesick girl is hit by a truth telling quirk that lasts 7 days.

*serenity (f)

in which a longtime fanboy meets his anime crush in his world.

entranced (f)

through all stages of his life, katsuki was entranced with you.

save me

katsuki has always saved you, his princess.

saved.

awakened

you've been asleep all this time, who knew a barbarian would be the one to awaken you?

death is inevitable, but why you?

summary: each boy has to live through their horrors, the horror of losing you.

fairy tale.

summary: katsuki's life had been flipped onto its head, who knew some pixie dust was all he needed?

iced out.

"he'll need an ice pack when i'm done with him."

fantasy au's:

dragonking!bkg 2

dragonking!bkg x tinkerbell!reader

barbarian!bakugo 2 3 4

prohero! au:

prohero!bkg 2 3 4

interview but he's down bad 2

preschool!teacher reader

kidnapped!reader

domestic au:

4:25 a.m

family errand running

interview with his daughter

6:21 a.m

mini you.

girldad!katsuki

nanny!reader

random drabbles:

mini me

katsuki thinks it's cute how you adopt his habits, calling you his mini-me.

he's a scaredy-cat.

is he proposing or...?

childhoodfriends

shy!reader

back kissing him</3

nerd!bakugo

physical touch

muscle-kisses

boyfriend!bakugo

only shy to him

racer!katsuki

comfort

the one who got away..

hypotheticals

drawing him

drawing on his hands

makeup on him

-todoroki shoto

*marry me! (f)

in which a royal prince and a witch get married to dethrone the king.

death is inevitable, but why you?

summary: each boy has to live through their horrors, the horror of losing you.

random drabbles:

is he proposing or...?

-tamaki amajiki

random drabbles:

shy!reader 2

sfw alphabet

timeskip!tamaki

period comfort

-kirishima eijiro

lucky me.

you always seemed to attract bad luck, yet you think your life might be turning around as you reconnect with light itself.

random drabbles:

is he proposing or...?

-midoriya izuku

death is inevitable, but why you?

summary: each boy has to live through their horrors, the horror of losing you.

random drabbles:

is he proposing or..?

-denki kaminari

random drabbles:

is he proposing or...?

-neito monoma

random drabbles:

shy!reader

-hitoshi shinsou

i'll love you, even from afar.

random drabbles:

period comfort

-touya todoroki (dabi)

better 4 u

summary: touya didn't deserve you, he knew there was someone out there better for you.

[eveningepiphany]

reconnect | h.s oneshot

my masterlist

summary: lockdown is tough on both you and harry. you miss the feeling of physical touch so much you start chasing to fill that void in one another.

warnings: sweet and dirty smut, unprotected sex, fingering (fem rec), spitting, deep conversation, lil bit emotional, touch starved harry & y/n, lockdown and covid mentions.

a/n: something hot and sweet for y’all ily!! highkey wish I had harry during my lockdown era writing this, my god.

———

You felt entirely numb as you heard the familiar news reporter say the words you had been dreading of hearing. Tahnee was was always on at this time of the day— you didn’t even know her name however many months ago.

Restrictions had been easing just a week or so ago.

Her voice continued to echo through the lounge room as you cupped your face in your hands with a sigh.

“—we understand the effect this news may have on viewers at home. In these unprecedented times we must stick together as much as we can. Look after yourself everyone… we’ll see you next with our sporting updates after the ad break.”

She sounded glum, like she hated being the one to deliver the news to people. In the end, she too has to go home and cope with the numerous amounts of restrictions on her life.

You reached for the remote, turning off the tv and throwing it back into the duvet that now permanently lived on the couch, good for the cold nights and binge watching TV shows because you had nothing better to do.

Other than ignore your upcoming college assignments. Which you’re going to continue to do. And procrastinate finishing them and how much you hate the pressure of online schooling.

You had other shit to dwell on too.

You miss your family. You miss your friends.

You’re sick of living out birthdays and your college life on video calls.

You missed being hugged, and kissed and touched.

You were so grateful to have your best friend of all people stuck with you. But you still craved so many kinds of social interaction.

Now you just wanted to cry.

You stood up, knowing harry wouldn’t know yet. Probably in bed on his phone, and you just needed his company.

You quickly went to escape the silence of the lounge room, padding down the hallway in your sweatpants and a baggy tshirt you know for a fact you stole from your dad.

His door was only half shut, and you gently said his name.

“Harry…?” Your voice wavers.

“Yea, love?” His voice is soft, welcoming as it always is.

You push through the door to see him laying in bed, also in sweatpants and a rolled up long sleeve.

He looks at you and tears immediately start to spill over your waterline without you even realising.

He props himself up, “y/n, what’s wrong?”

You invite yourself over to his bed, and his arms pull you into his chest the moment you’re close enough.

A gesture that is just too much given the circumstances, and although the sweetest, it tips you over the edge.

You feel the tightness in your throat as his hands move to caress your back. Before you know it, your chest is rattled with a sob. You felt so dramatic but you needed to let it out.

He waited no time to wrap you straight into his tightest hug, trailing his hands up to your the back of your neck, stroking the skin there with his thumb.

“Darling.” He whispered, concerned of what had happened, but not wanting to push you to tell him. Just letting you cry.

Eventually it wracked out of you,

“We’re— we’re going back into stage four restrictions.” Your reasoning came out with a shaky voice.

You felt his intake of breath once you’d said it, and it got held in his chest for a few seconds before getting let go all at once.

“Fuck.” He cursed out defeatedly.

You sit in silence, but not once does his grasp on you loosen.

“I just want to see my family outside of a fucking FaceTime.” You whisper.

“I do too…” he closes his eyes, “I wish there was something I could do to make it better, y/n. I’m sorry.”

He grabs your hand, amending what he said before.

“I know this is shit, but we’ll get through it. We get through everything together.” He smiles, it doesn’t quite crinkle the corners of his eyes like it usually does, but it’s an attempt at the least.

“I’m so sick of feeling so alone, Harry. I’m glad i have you here, but it’s so lonely at the same time with just us.” You say quietly, hoping not to offend him.

He nods against your head, which is tucked into his shoulder, letting you vent without interruption.

“We can’t do anything. We can’t see anyone. I havent felt another persons touch outside of yours in weeks.”

He doesn’t get offended, he understands exactly where you’re coming from and you’re so grateful for that.

He just plays with your hair as you talk.

“Same here, baby.”

“I don’t mean it in a rude way, you’re very affectionate given our circumstances, but I just…”

Your sentences falls off short, and you shrug. You missed romantic touch too.

“Y’miss being touched.” He enunciates the word in a more suggestive way.

You nod, “not to sound… gross or anything. But I do miss being touched, and held, and kissed.”

He pulls you in a little closer as you speak, almost without realising he was doing it. Absentmindedly ready to do any thing to make you feel a bit better. A bit more connected.

“It’s not gross. It’s normal.” He frowns, “We have gone months without seeing our own family. I can only guess neither of us have had anything romantic going for us. Nothing wrong with missing that.”

“It seems kind of— i don’t know— weird to miss in comparison to the other things.”

“Y/n, tell me you’re not feeling guilty for missing getting kissed. Or laid.”

“I’m…” you sigh as you realise you can’t even pretend you’re not, and he rolls his eyes lightly.

“Jesus.” He let’s out a breathy laugh.

“It’s not just that, atleast, that I miss.” You shake your head, still feeling a little embarrassed.

“I miss the connection. The feeling of it.”

His facial expressions quickly get more serious as you talk. All of the words coming from your mouth can be interpreted in varying ways, but his mind can’t help but veer towards the more sexual aspect of it. Especially since you didn’t deny you missed getting laid.

“I get it. I miss having the opportunity to want someone.” He nods again, watching your reaction to what he says like a hawk.

You look away, almost shy, “To really want it.”

“Yea…” he glances at your lips without realising he’s doing it, and the feeling you’re both discussing at this very moment is welling in the pit of his stomach.

His hands reach out to wipe away the damp glaze on your cheeks from your tears.

“I’m proud of you.” He sighs.

“What— Why?”

“Because. You may think you’re not, but you’re doing so well.” He looks utterly sincere as he says it.

“Harry…” you shake your head as his name slips past your tongue, and you bury your face further into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent, lips accidentally brushing the base of his neck.

This has him tingling, your soft mouth so close to his pulse point, he wonders if you can feel it racing.

“Y/n.” He squeezes your hip, “If you want me to kiss you, just know all you have to do is say the words.”

He swallows as you still, processing the offer he’s just put on the table.

“But—“

“I miss it too. The really wanting it.” He caresses the soft skin of your waist with the hand that’s now slid underneath your shirt.

You go quiet, suddenly the air so thick with tension you couldn’t breathe.

“If you want anything from me, I’ll give it to you.” He whispers, so softly. Like he wants you to hear him, but also not at the same time.

You’re not sure how to even react.

You’re horny. Emotional. And frankly a little bit too infatuated with his lips to breach into the territory of being able to touch them with your own.

“Harry.” You repeat, sounding unsure.

“Baby, if you wanted it, I would do it.”

He scratches his fingers down your spine, noting the absence of a bra strap.

You shudder at the sensation. Realising no one has made you feel like this in so long.

“Very sudden.” You blurt, trying not to push forward with you hips whatsoever, despite the ache that’s quickly conjured between your legs.

You fear that if you feel him, all sense of rationality will be gone.

“I know.” He says, lips dragging down your temple.

“M’beginning to realise, y/n, that i would do just about anything to keep you happy.”

Your heart pangs and you indulge a little, hands coming up to weave through his hair and pull on it gently.

And he groans, sounding so pretty.

“You deserve this too.” You carefully say. You’re not even sure where the line is between the two of you. But you continue talking anyway,

“Always so sweet… so giving. Who would I be to not make you feel loved on too.”

“Christ.” He whispers as you tug on his brown curls again, which slide against your fingers like silk.

“How far is this gonna go, H.” You ask, needing clarification before you go insane.

“Far as you want it.”

“I need specifications.” Your hands come to his cheeks, “I don’t want to be making any assumptions here.”

“Angel, If you asked me for my mouth on your pussy, I would give it. Want my cock? It’s yours. Use me, touch me, anything you want you already have.”

You feel yourself melt at the words.

You cave, leaning forward and capture his perfect lips, feeling their shape slot against yours like an art piece.

His lips feel heavenly, and you nearly black out at the sensation that overtakes your body.

“Fuck, that feels so good love.” Harry says against your mouth, his tongue jutting out to swipe over your bottom lip.

You hum in the back of your throat, and he tugs your hips so you’re properly seated into his lap.

You can’t miss his erection underneath your core. His clothed length is pressing into you and a moan slips out of you before you can even stop it.

“Need it. Please.” You start to beg, no matter how desperate it comes across.

His hand comes to your waistband, “you’re sure you want me to touch you?”

“Yes, yes.”

It dips underneath the fabric, finding you without underwear and almost dripping you were that wet.

The thing is, going so long with just your hand and a vibrator, the second any kind of prospect of getting dicked down is there— you’re immediately slick with arousal.

“Jesus fuck, y/n.” He drags his middle finger through your cunt, feeling the wetness along his finger tip. “You’re soaked.”

“Harry— oh my god—“ he slid it back down, teasing your entrance with his fingertip.

“Been that long huh. Just the thought of it works you up this much?” He chuckles.

Your hands fly to the collar of his shirt, tugging at the soft material, gripping it in your fists.

You hum in agreement. “More, please.”

“Mm, so glad you’re letting me do this.”

He pushes in further, and just his one long finger is touching places that has you clenching around him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Praise is spilling from your lips as he curls his digit in you.

You slouch into his strong frame, hand slipping down between the two of you, palming over his erection.

He peppers your neck in open mouthed kisses, moaning at the feeling of you squeezing his clothed cock.

“Can I— fuck— get you out.” You ask, reaching to dip under his sweatpants.

“Yes. Don’t even have t’ask, pretty.”

You flush, hand moving underneath his waistband, finding him also without underwear.

Relief flooded you as you got your hands on the smooth skin of his cock.

He moaned at the contact, “Shittt. That feels amazing. S’much better than my own hand…”

He slides another finger into as you begin stroking along his length.

You both begin to move in sync with one another, the sound of your pleasure beginning to echo around the room.

“Can hear how wet you are.” Harry grunts, fingers curling inside you.

Your hand squeezes around his cock as he does that, causing you both to moan.

“Harry. I need you inside me… please.” His fingers were already close enough to making you come and you weren’t sure how he’d react if you came before he even got close to being in you.

“Can I make you come first? Want you to feel good, baby. If you can handle more than one orgasm, please?”

He wants you to feel good.

Before himself.

You realise this man in genuinely a saint. Like more than you ever could have imagined.

“Seriously?” You still don’t even believe he means it. Maybe he’s just saying it to be nice, and actually wants you to say no?

“What do you mean?” He looks a little confused, slowing down the kisses he was placing along your neck.

“I— sorry. I’m just not used to being so… looked after, I guess?”

“Have other guys not made you come first…?” He looks shocked.

“No… not usually? Occasionally, if I’m really horny and it wouldn’t take long.”

“I know there’s some scumbags out there, but with a pussy like yours… they should be begging to please you.” He shakes his head, not finished talking.

“For the record, lovie, if you weren’t so adamant in getting filled with my cock, I’d be making you come atleast twice before I fuck you.”

He pulls his hand entirely away from your cunt, allowing you to feel his absence as he talks. “Then I’d edge you with my fingers to the brink of your third. Until you’re begging me to stretch you out.”

He delivers a gentle slap over the hood of your clit once he’s done talking. Sliding his middle and pointer finger back down into your entrance to gather the arousal there, and slip it up to your clit.

“Oh.” You breathed out. A whiney noise following from your throat shortly after.

You were surprised. Not because it was Harry, if anyone would be like this it would be him. But you’re used to being a second thought sometimes. Just an aid to an end goal.

You’d become accustomed to it. Now there’s a man in front of you, who wants to please you because it seems to make him happy.

He reaffirms that thought, “I don’t think you’re aware how happy I’m gonna feel when your cunt is pulsating around my fingers in a few minutes.”

With saying that, he pinches and rolls your clit between his fingers and you struggle to find words to respond to what he said.

“Fuck— I— thank you.” You’re shaking a little as he increases the speed as he works over your clit.

“Nono. Thank you. You’re so nice under my fingers. So wet and warm.” He hums as you begin to squirm against his touch.

Your hand movements around his hard cock have gone to a lax and languid stroke, and almost stop all together when he dives his fingers back into your hole.

“Mhm— Harry!” You gasp, quickly starting to lose all your sense of self as he plays with you.

“That’s it, Y/n. Let me take care of you.”

He works you expertly, and your cunt is so unprepared for the attention from someone other than yourself. Its making it hard to hold yourself together.

You’re clenching around his fingers, and the tension in your stomach is quickly building.

“I’m gonna… fuck I’m gonna come soon, H.” You moan, followed by another curse of his name as he flicks your clit with his thumb.

Your pushing your hips against his hand, grinding into every movement. Chasing that explosion of pleasure in your abdomen.

“Wanna feel it. Come on, let it all go f’me.” He coos, keeping a hard and fast pace with his hand.

You cry out his name, nails scraping down his skin as you beg for the final push, which comes quickly.

A curl of his thrusting fingers and your movement lapses immediately, jaw going slack as you come around his hand.

It’s better than he could ever imagine, the noises coming from your lips are sinful, and you lean forward, open mouth panting over his cheek.

Hot breath fanning across his face while you’re still clenching around him.

He moves to bite your bottom lip, earning a jerk of your hips and another moan from you.

After your heart rate slows, he gently removes his fingers out of you.

“Good girl. Took it so well.” He pecks your nose with his lips.

“Can take your cock better.” You let out a breathy laugh.

He smiles, dimples popping out.

“Little minx. C’mere.”

He draws you into a hug, pulling your middle flush to his chest.

“D’ya need a minute, or no?” He asks gently, voice close to you ear.

“No, I’m ok, I’m good.” You blush.

“S’it too much to ask to take your shirt off?” His hand pulls at the hem of your tshirt.

“Can yours come off too?” You chuckle, leaning back to settle your eyes on the long sleeve covering his chest.

He nods, still smiling as he lets you take his off first. Revealing his toned chest and inked skin.

You run your hands along the ridges of his abs as he reaches for to pull off your own shirt.

Lifting your arms, you hear his little intake of breath as he remembers you don’t have a bra on.

The shirt gets tossed elsewhere as he is focused solely on your chest.

He looks transfixed as he trails a hand up to ghost over the skin on the side of your breast.

“Fuckin’ hell. Look at you, Angel. Got the prettiest tits.” He says it with such endearment.

You squirm with pleasure as he cups you in his hand, bringing your nipple to his mouth. His hot, velvety tongue slicking over the sensitive skin there.

Your back arches immediately, a moan sounding from you.

“Fuckkk…” you drawl out, letting him suck it into his mouth.

The sensation is enough to have you a mess in his hands again. The way he works his mouth over you like it’s nothing.

You take his cock back into your grip— having momentarily let go during the haze of your orgasm— and run the head of him through your folds.

His mouth falls open around you, moaning, letting his breath fan over your sensitive nipple.

“Jesus Christ, Y/n.” He groans against you.

“So hard…” you whisper, rubbing his tip over your clit.

He lifts his head away from your chest, glancing down to see the connection between the two of you.

And he moves a hand down, lacing it over the top of yours.

You felt so connected with him. Just with his hand now over yours, and his length pressed into your clit.

You can’t even imagine the state you’ll be put in when he’s inside of you.

“Harry… need you.” You plead again, without care of if he’s sick of hearing it.

You need him. Need him so bad it’s consuming you. All you can think about is him. Not even in the sense that all you want his cock.

You just need to feel like you’re close as you possible can be to him.

“I know baby, I know.” He kisses your cheek, “Y’want me to use a condom?”

“Only if you want to. I’m clean and still on the pill.”

“I trust you. If that’s what you want.” He reaffirms with you.

“H, I have to feel you. Just need to be close to you.” You lean into his neck, kissing the skin there.

“And s’this position comfortable for you?”

“Yes, yes. I’ll take you anyway, any position. Whether you want me on top, under you, bent over… don’t care. Just want you.”

“God, you’re such a good girl. So amazing f’me.”

You let him guide your hand to the base of his length. And then slowly, with his hand interlocked over yours, drag his tip to your entrance.

Your already letting out whines, free arm coming to lace into the hair at the nape of his neck.

You lower your hips down on him, feeling the head of his cock slip up into you.

You both let out a moan at the sensation, whispers of each others names falling from your lips. Gently you keep sliding him in further, soaking in every second you feel him stretch you out.

This was what you missed. The feeling of connecting with someone. Not necessarily with just the sex. But feeling intertwined. Like you couldn’t tell where your body ended and his begun.

“You’re better than I could’ve dreamed, lovely.” He praised, earning a clench of your cunt. One he wasn’t expecting, that had him moaning into the shell of your ear.

He sounded perfect. Like an Angel. And you melted further into him at the sound.

“This is perfect, Harry. Needed it so bad.” You stroked his hair as you spoke.

He removed his hand from over yours, coming to rest both of them on your hips, guiding you down further.

Once you moved your own, you could let him slide you all the way. Your clit brushing over his pubic bone once you reached the base.

“Clenching ‘round me like that—“ he hisses, “gon’ make me come too fast, darling.”

“Let me feel you for a second.” He holds you in place, letting you sit still over his thick cock.

“So wet, so warm. Made to fit my cock, hm?” He squeezes the skin of your waist.

He bucks his pelvis up to you after you moan out an agreement, “Made just for you, Harry.”

And he’s starting to thrust slowly in and out, guiding your hips through the movements.

“Lay on me.” He rearranges himself so you can lay your chest onto his, and rest your head next to his cheek.

Your breasts press up against him, and clit is now being stimulated even more by his front.

“Need you close to me.” He whispers, and you start to bounce onto his cock gently. Bum slapping on the strength of his thighs.

“Me too, H. Have to feel every part of you.” You moaned, circling yourself on him. Each rotation hitting your clit, causing you to moan.

He also is in shock at the sensation of being inside of you. It almost like a surprise to his entire nervous system.

He draws his fern-adorning hips back, only to snap them back upwards. Skin slapping at the movement.

Not to mention the sound of your wetness gliding along his cock each time you got thrusted into, which was echoing through the room.

“Listen to how wet you are. All for me.” He groans, picking up the pace.

Your lips find a spot to suck below his ear as he talks, nipping at the skin.

“I’m so… you make me so wet.” You agree, pussy pulsating around his bare cock.

“Love it. Don’t you? Us using each other like this.”

He says it, knowing the dirty talk in turning you on even more. But you both know it goes beyond getting a quick fuck.

This is everything to you both. Feeling like, for the first time in so long, you are truly not alone.

“Want you to use me, Harry.” You roll your cunt, pushing your clit onto any part of him it reaches, still clenching at the contact.

“Dirty Girl. So fucking desperate.” He laughs, kissing your hair.

“Who would I be to talk, though.” He grabs at your ass, “I’d beg you for this everyday. This sweet cunt around me. For you to touch me. Anything.”

He admits it with a moan following after it, your pussy fluttering.

You feel it building it inside the pit of your stomach.

“Want you to fill me up.” You state, panting as your thighs start to shake, and you realise in a few minutes your going to come. And hard.

“With my come, huh? Want me to put it deep inside y’baby?” He asks you, hips bucking excitedly at the prospect.

“Yes! Fill me with your warm come, Harry.” You’re starting to go delusional.

Filthy fucking words flying from your mouth as your arousal overtakes every rational part of your brain.

“Shit—“ He is pressing you flush to his body, holding you as close as he possibly can. The pace of his cock slapping into you increasing by the second.

“I wanna see it drip out of you, Y/N.” He groans, fucking into you hard and fast.

You feel amazing, your heart racing in your chest, and your whole body vibrating. You’re being stimulated in so many places. Your nipples pressed up to his toned chest, clit being rubbed by his pubic bone, god— and his cock fucking you.

“Thankyouthankyou—“ your mind is quickly turning to a mess with him swallowing you up like this.

You feel your orgasm approaching with a tension in the pit of your stomach. It’s quickly becoming the only sensation you can feel outside of the harsh thrusts Harry is giving you.

“Good little slut.” He grabs your face, lust taking over the both of you like you’re teenagers.

His pace doesn’t let up, and he stares at you with half lidded eyes.

“Spit in my mouth.” You beg, not even sure where the fucking thought was from before it came out of your lips.

“God… fuck— open your mouth.” He grunts, tilting his head to angle his lips to yours.

You open it, sticking your tongue out a little past your bottom lip, ready to catch anything that would drip given the fact you’re still on top of him.

He purses his lips, gathering up his saliva and dropping it down onto your tongue.

It was fucking feral, and you loved every second of it.

It tasted of him, and you swallowed it without even being asked.

Just watching that happen had him fucking you like it was his sole purpose in life. His thrusts became despeate for you.

You shook with anticipation, “I’m— I’m gonna come!”

“Yes… fuck yes. Come on, baby, finish all over my cock.”

His words were your breaking point, your cunt clenching so hard around him that he groaned aloud.

“Fuckfuckfuck— make me come, Y/N.” before he started to pulsate in you, putting his load deep into your pussy.

Having it happen almost all at once prolonged your orgasm, making you continue to moan and writhe in his grip for what felt like forever. Squeezing him until he had nothing left to give you.

Once you slowly both regained your awarenesses, you stayed on top of him. Sweaty and sticky, but you stayed close as possible to him.

You couldn’t fathom that just happened.

“Harry…” you whispered, and he hummed to the quiet chant of his name.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Stop thanking me baby. You did just as much for me.” He smiles into your cheek.

He brought his arms up to cage you to his chest, “and it’s so nice to be holding you.”

You move to kiss his lips, gently sucking his bottom one into your mouth. Lulling your tongue over it, letting it go with a pop.

“I haven’t felt this present in… in months.” You say quietly.

“Neither have I. Y’make me feel safe. Which might sound odd, but s’true.” He glances at you, watching you smile at his words.

“Im so glad we did that.” You make sure he knows you don’t have a single regret in following through with everything.

“Once we’re showered, gonna have a serious conversation about the fact you asked me to spit in your mouth.” He chuckles.

You flushed, not sure whether to be embarrassed about it or not.

“Got a little uhm.. carried away.” You tried to justify.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he laughs, indicating he was just teasing, “thought it was so hot. Just never would have expected it.”

“I wanna know what else you’re into, yknow.” He licks his lips.

“What other dirty little secrets your hiding up in that head of yours.”

You shake your head, “shut up.”

“M’serious. We’ve got a lot of time to kill.” He’s still chuckling, hand coming to stroke through your hair.

“And I loved that. Loved feeling you so close. You’re a dream.” He pecks your cheek again.

“Make me some of your good cooking and I’ll think about it.” You joke.

“But really…” you pause, “thank you too, H. That meant everything to me.”

He didn’t reply with words, they wouldn’t be enough, so he just kissed you. Kissed you with every ounce of his being.

———

[pookietv]

online embarrassment | arthurtv

this was a req!! and i think its adorable

there will be a part two to this !!!

being a simple university student, you had simple pleasures - getting drunk on the weekend, binge watching tv shows, and a more strange one, online chess. you liked watching people play, you liked playing yourself, you loved the strategy aspect. on some websites you played on, there was the option of livestreaming your chess game - no faces or voices, but people could chat alongside you playing, and you enjoyed seeing input on your games.

one day you were playing a particularly tricky game, being forked from practically the get go, and being the victim of many pawn trades, you were definitely on a losing streak, even if you were just playing against a bot. it was being streamed, but there were only four people watching, not that embarrassing right? especially because it was hidden behind a chess username and no one knew who you were anyways, so it didn't really matter.

so when a comment came in,

ATV: i wouldn't have played rook to f4 there, leaves an opening for a three move check :)

your head tilted a little, turning back to the game and furrowing your eyebrows, trying to figure what they had meant - and they were right, the move was a little careless and it could lead to checkmate.

you nodded to yourself, trying to amend the damage by playing your bishop defensively, to which another comment came in.

ATV: sorry for backseat gaming here, but you could have check in two

you smiled a little more at the comment, placing one hand on your chin and the other on your mouse, following some moves for what must have been fourty-five seconds before you clicked, they were right again. you made the move, the bot making its response, defending also, before in a few short moves, the game was over, you had won by check.

youruser: @/ATV thank you! i still kinda suck after playing for so long lmao

ATV: @/youruser do you want a game? :)

youruser: @/ATV sure! i'll add you now :P

so you added them, and they requested a game. in the chatbox on the side, you saw another message just as they had moved their first piece.

ATV: so what's your name?

youruser: i'm y/n, what about you?

ATV: arthur :)

he moved with an unusual polish opening, so you played traditional and tried to take control of the centre. within a few minutes, he had one of your pawns pinned, and had taken another.

youruser: damn you're actually really good

youruser: feeling a little defeated here :)

ATV: i'm just a loser with far too much time on my hands

youruser: well i mean me too but still, you're smoking me

ATV: cause you're playing too much attack not enough defence

youruser: i feel i may need you to tutor me lmao

ATV: lets finish up this game rq and then i'll help lol

unsurprisingly, he won, but you actually came closer than expecting, and it was a pretty even match after the poor beginning.

ATV: you're actually pretty good, you were just being modest

youruser: hm well maybe

youruser: suppose i'll have to keep challenging you til i win >:D

ATV: do you have discord or anything? easier to explain and talk on there rather than chess in game chat lol

youruser: i do! i'll link it rq :)

youruser: it's yourdiscuser #1782

and from there, you began talking semi-regularly, you played chess often and spoke tactics and games, he helped teach you and you enjoyed the company.

youruser: isn't it really strange we know nothing about each other other then chess defence strategies

youruser: i mean what if you're the insane chess killer man

ATV: yes, thats exactly who i am, the Insane Chess Killer Man, can't believe you caught me red handed

ATV: i mean what do you wanna know

youruser: i mean, idk,,, where are you from? i mean i know you speak english but you could be from anywhere i guess :O

ATV: i live in england, what about you :)

youruser: me too! i'm in london atm for uni, getting my masters

ATV: i am also in london! so if you're getting your masters, you're like ... somewhere around 24?

youruser: yeah, i'm 23 :P

youruser: what about you? i mean i have a feeling you're not some sixty year old man based on the fact you use discord but idk

ATV: i'm 28,,, getting very old :(

youruser: wow, very old indeed, must be such a shame

youruser: its gonna suck when i'm gonna have to visit you in a nursing home to play chess with you in two years time

ATV: okay i'm not that old you divvy :)

youruser: kidding, kidding ! anyway, i have to go because i have class but,, if you maybe wanna add me on instagram, its @/youruser :)

getting back from your lectures and practically throwing your backpack on the floor and collapsing on your bed, you planned on rotting the rest of the day away in pajamas and consuming far too much social media.

you opened instagram to a new follower: @/arthurtv

you assumed it was arthur from chess, and obviously in curiosity you opened his page straight away, you were nosy and you wanted to know who he was.

the first thing that shocked you was what he looked like: you didn't know what you were expecting but you didn't think it was going to be him.

he was... attractive, you had to admit, and your eyes had widened once you had seen him.

the second thing that shocked you was his followers, and his bio - he was a youtuber?

classically, you had to be nosy and follow the links to his youtube, your eyebrows raised a little as you looked at his channel, giggling to yourself, he did commentary on reality tv? you hadn't seen that before, but once you watched a video, you realised he was funny, too. he made it funny, despite the fact that you had at first felt it was the strangest youtube topic ever.

youruser: why hello arthurtv

youruser: i was definitely not expecting you

arthurtv: why hello y/n

arthurtv: i could say the same about you

youruser: well i mean i don't have any surprises

youruser: but you are apparently known for commenting on 90 day fiance?

arthurtv: i'd argue you have some surprises

arthurtv: and yes, i make commentary videos! wasn't trying to hide it or anything, just was a weird thing to bring up in conversation :)

youruser: no, it seems cool! i wasn't judging :) i don't watch much youtube so i don't know too much about it

youruser: and anyways, what surprises do i have?

arthurtv: i wasn't expecting you to look like that i suppose

youruser: like what ??

arthurtv: i mean, i don't know, pretty i suppose

arthurtv: you're very pretty, i just didn't know what i was expecting to be honest

youruser: wow you thought i couldn't be pretty cause i'm a loser playing chess??? smh arthur

youruser: (i'm kidding, i didn't expect you to look like you either)

arthurtv: you know that's not what i meant!!

arthurtv: what did you expect me to look like then?

youruser: well since you're 28, i suppose i was expecting a zimmerframe or walking stick or something

arthurtv: ha ha very funny

[justastraymoa]

Unwilling Alpha

Chapter 11

Warnings ⚠️ swears, abo dynamics, mentions of slave trade, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, fear, manipulation.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

The live lasted just over 2 hours before the boys finally signed off. They had given all their announcements and answered as many questions as they could.

I noticed that no one gave me any more questions to answer. Most likely because STAYs responses upset everyone so much last time I answered a question. Still, I participated in the conversations and even asked questions of my own occasionally.

As soon as the camera was off Chan swept me off Seungmins lap and spun me, hopping little hops in his excitement. “You did so good! Ahhh!” he wiggled a bit, making my body flop side to side slightly.

“Christopher, oh my god!” I laughed loudly. Truth was I was tired and my muscles sore from my panic attack. I was ready to soak in the tub with a good book and my new phone.

“You were amazing. You handled STAY very well.” Hyunjin emphasized.

“I did okay.” I amended. Chan set me on my feet. “I did have a panic attack. Thank you for covering for me, by the way.”

“No need to thank us. Really.” Han said giving me a hug. “And you still did the live in the end, which is impressive.”

“We should celebrate.” Hyunjin declared. “Let’s go shopping!”

I scoffed, picking up my bag of electronics and turning to leave. “Shopping for what?”

“Stuff to decorate your room.”

I paused mid step. “My room?”

“Did you think we would keep that room as a guest room?” Lee Know asked.

I blinked, thrown off. I hadn’t thought about there being a ‘my room’. “Isn’t it taboo for you to be seen shopping or something? Don’t you usually shop online?”

Chan shrugged. “Not really taboo per say. It’s just more private to shop online.” He said.

“You’re talking about like Walmart or Target, right? Do you have Target here?” I really needed to learn my new home a little better. There were probably stores here I had never even heard of.

Hyunjin gave me a over the top disgusted look. “We are not going there! Are you nuts!”

“There is nothing wrong with Walmart and Target! Bougie ass.”

“He likes interior decorating. Knows all the best places.” Changbin informed proudly, slinging an arm around Hyunjins shoulders.

“My HyunBin heart is all aflutter!” I clutched my chest and swooned dramatically.

“Oh, you’re a shipper? Who do you ship? Me and Lino?” Han asked.

“Everyone. I honestly love all the ships and seeing everyone’s relationship with each other.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, everyone ships everyone. Are we shopping? I know this amazing place not too far away.” Hyunjin gushed showing me his phone where he had a very posh looking storefront pulled up. It looked like it had some truly beautiful items, but we were jumping the gun a little. And I truly was tired.

“Slow your roll. I have plenty of stuff at home.” I just had to get it shipped here is all.

His face fell into a pout. He had honestly gotten excited about decorating my room. “Okay, we can shop online for a few things tonight.” I relented. God, these boys had me wrapped around their fingers, but he perked up a bit, so it’s okay.

“Let’s get changed and get a few more hours of practice in.” Chan ushered everyone from the room.

I was happy to get out of the fancy clothes and back into my comfy ones. I stole some makeup removing wipes and threw my hair into a messy bun with a large smile on my face.

“Theres our beautiful girl!” Changbin kissed my freshly cleaned face on his way by.

My face heated. “Shush! The makeup is gone, it’s just me now.”

“Exactly!” Lee Know responded. I just rolled my eyes.

While the Omegas practiced, I worked on setting up a company to pack my stuff, ship it here or sell/donate it. At the very least I would need my clothes. Before they tried to get me to buy overpriced luxury brand clothing. Though I’m sure I would be forced to wear those too. At least when I was in the public eye.

The new tablet was a very nice one. Already loaded with my preferred editing programs and everything. The socials on all the devices were set up differently than I was used to. One, everything was in Korean. Two, I had the official check mark next to my usernames. The coveted check mark everyone seemed to want. And I got it so fast and easy. I no longer followed anyone, had any posts, or any followers. Well, all my followers were brand new I should say. Within minutes of my reveal, they started finding me. Netizens were the best online detectives out there.

I shrugged and uploaded the pictures I took earlier to pick one to post. Might as well, it was odd to have socials that were totally empty. Odder that some people decided to follow anyways.

I was careful with the photo. A group action shot of the Omegas dancing. I inspected it very carefully to make sure there was nothing bad in it. No rude gestures or things in the background or mirror reflections. Then I posted it.

Curiosity got the better of me and I went to the comment section of the recent live to see what STAY had to say about me. I braced myself, already knowing it was bad, but unable to help myself. The comments were exactly as I expected.

I closed the app. Even though I was expecting it and braced myself, it still stung. It hurt to see all the hateful things my fellow STAY said about me. I always felt a bond with other STAYs, but this felt like a betrayal. And they confirmed all my worst fears. I wasn’t good enough for Stray Kids and I was turning STAY against them.

-

It took a week for the company I hired to get my things to me. We came home late from practice to several very large boxes addressed neatly to me.

“Yay, my stuff!” I hopped and clapped in excitement. I had been impatiently waiting. I started shoving the first box towards my room.

“Does this mean we have to go back to our own rooms?” Felix asked pouting slightly as he looked at the boxes.

The Omegas have yet to spend a night in their own rooms since I left. It was something we never really talked about. And I think we all secretly dreaded the day they would be forced to sleep in a different room again. Myself included. I had grown accustomed to their comforting presences while I slept. The feeling of safety they brought.

So, I shrugged. “I’m sure I can manage to have enough room for everyone to stay.” Felix looked a little hopeful. “Hyunnie, you wanna help?”

Hyunjin and I had already bought curtains, rugs, and a couple paintings for my room. I have yet to be able to hand or put them up, but we bought them. And tomorrow they had a day off so I could get one of them to help me if we don’t get it finished tonight.

Hyun started pushing another box. The two of us spent the next several hours setting things up in my room and putting away everything.

He got a good kick out of the boxes of carefully packed Stray Kids merch he found. “Oh my god! You have an entire wardrobe for every Skzoo!” He held up my Jiniret and made it wiggle.

I sucked my teeth and snatched Jiniret back. “Don’t tease! You know I was a fan before all this happened.” I pouted and petted Jinirets head.

“Aww, I’m sorry!” Hyunjin pulled me to his chest and rubbed my back. “Don’t pout. I was only kidding around. I won’t do it again.”

True to his word, he didn’t tease while hanging my numerous Stray Kids shirts. Though I did catch him smirking to himself multiple times.

The others came and went. Helping to hand some shelves and my macrame ceiling swing. By the time it was time for bed, everyone being exhausted, the only things left to do were to hang my curtains and build my desk. And Hyun had fun interior decorating my room with me. Brutally honest but had a good eye.

And though it was a bit more cramped, the boys were still able to make up their beds to stay with me for the night. I was happy about that, truthfully a little scared to sleep alone again.

-

For the first time since bonding with Stray Kids, I was allowed to sleep in and wake up naturally. The boys were already awake and enjoying their day off. I could hear the TV going in the living room through my open door. Hannie was laying on his stomach next to me on the bed, reading quietly. Felix was on one of the makeshift beds nearby playing his game system, Changbin also nearby on his laptop.

“Morning. Coffees in the kitchen.” Felix greeted half distracted.

I hummed in thanks and reached out to ruffle his hair. He leaned into my touch, eyes never leaving the screen his game was on.

With a stretch, I got started with the day. There were things that needed to be done today, while I had the time. My desk and curtains needed to be built and hung, and I needed to go through my clothes with the others to find suitable stuff to pack for the tour. My day off was full of things that needed to get done.

My stacking the makeshift beds out of the way chased the 3 Omegas from the room, who didn’t want to get roped into helping clean and were sick of being told to move so I could continue my task.

Hyun, Chan, Lee Know, and Seungmin were watching TV in the living room while multitasking. Hyun was drawing on his nails with Chan. Lee Know was on his phone, absorbed in whatever it was he was doing. And Seungmin was plucking at his guitar and writing in a notebook laying on the cushion beside him occasionally.

Han had gone to his room to continue to read, Felix had started a game with I.N, and Changbin now sat at the table, still working on his laptop.

“Can any of you take a moment to help me with my curtains?” I asked the apartment in general.

“My nails are still wet. Later?” Hyun replied wagging his fingers at me. Chan did the same to demonstrate that his were also wet.

“Let me just finish this. I’m onto something.” Seungmin mumbled while writing.

Changbin reached out and squeezed my hand. “I really need to catch up on this, sweetie. Maybe in a little bit when I finish.”

“After this round!” I.N called for both him and Felix.

Han and Lee Know didn’t even answer me. Too absorbed in what they were doing to even hear me.

I shrugged and sighed. This was their day off; they should spend it how they wanted. It was unfair of me to ask at all. They have been working extremely hard and deserved a break. I could do this on my own. It wasn’t rocket science.

That being said, the directions to build my desk might as well be in hieroglyphics. I sat surrounded by desk pieces. No idea where to even begin. This might be harder than rocket science. This might be impossible.

For my own sanity and to soothe my Omegas I took breaks often to check in with them. Running a hand along their back or fingers through their hair to reestablish and reinforce our connection.

It took 3 hours, but eventually I stood facing a built desk proudly, hands on my hips. I took the next half hour to set up my desk. Using decorating as a reward for a job well done. I loved setting up my cute, cozy workspaces with my favorite things. Making this little space a place I wanted to work at.

When I went out to see everyone again, I noticed they were still busy enjoying their day. The gaming had migrated to the living room where Hyunjin and Seungmin had joined in, playing multiplayer. Han had finished his book and joined Changbin on his laptop, discussing quietly amongst themselves. The others were spread around watching the game or on their phones. I wasn’t going to interrupt them to ask for help again. It was just hanging curtains; I could do it myself.

I stole a dinning chair to stand on. If I placed the chair in the middle of the window, I should be able to reach both ends without needing to climb on and off the chair a dozen times. And I should be able to tell if they were straight from there too. I put together an entire desk, surely, I can hang some curtains.

The window was wider than I originally thought, and I really had to stretch to reach the top edges in order to put up the curtain rod. It was tricky getting the nails in at the odd angle and the chair wobbled under my feet, but I was cautious.

One side complete I marked the other and leaned back to check if it was even. Last thing I needed was uneven curtains to bother the hell out of me every time I saw them.

It was good I checked too because the second side was a good 2 inches lower than the first side. I adjusted my markings and shifted back to check them again, more confident in this placement.

There was a moment of pure fear as my calves hit the back of the chair unexpectedly, and I windmilled my arms to try and keep my balance with no luck. I gasped and braced as I flipped over the back of the chair and landed on my upper back and hit my head. Landing right on my box fan. I heard the telltale snaps of plastic before everything went black and peaceful. (A/N: safety first! When using a chair to stand on, make sure the back is facing the wall/in front of you, so this does not happen!)

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General Taglist @stellasays45

Unwilling Alpha Taglist: @xxeiraxx @hanniemylovelyquokka @breadedloafs @songleepark @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hyunjinhoexxx @kayleefriedchicken @vietjeb @hityoulikebahng @juju-227592 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @royal-shinigami @bangchansfavoritenoona @straykidslvr @bookswillfindyouaway @h0rnyp0t @Svmmerstime @jennibahng @kpopandmusicpassion @jasmin-loves-k-pop @cookey-lock @possum-playground @demigoddreamon-blog @rei-reia @dreamerwasfound @jasmin-loves-k-pop @ms-flowergirl @princess-sunshyn @technicallyimportantsweets